but lost in cyber space's holding dock (due to busyness of life)
until refound today .
Welcome to Sewing Club, we sure are glad you were able to come today.
I spent the day puttering around my house putting this here and that there while thinking "what would I be doing without tending house with my children"?
Oh, I love doing what I am doing so much more than all the other options....
I have had so many different thoughts running through my mind today on mothering and how we are each so different in how we mother individually, but also alike in the distinction of being mothers. Thoughts about the individual women in my life that have helped shape the mother I have become and how each of them has contributed to my Mama personality.
SouleMama has a wonderful post today that describes my feelings so much better on being a mother than even I could explain. How does she do that? ~grin~
The phrase "The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world" has ran through my head all day. It is such a powerful statement. Motherhood is such an honor.
Here it is in its entirety~
Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow--
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky--
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)