Tribute to Momma

Enjoying my morning coffee, while stirring nostalgia, as I think about my Momma setting the aluminum percolator with glass insert on the lid, on the coal fired cookstove. I was allowed to drink coffee from an early age and glad my Momma allowed it. There were occasions when I visited her in my adulthood that she would

A percolator that sat on the coal-fired stove during my childhood years.

prepare my coffee for me as soon as I awoke. What a blessing to hear the tapping of the spoon again; the same sound that readied my cup of coco before school.

Gardening was one of Momma’s great passions and after she passed, I looked out the bedroom window to a piece of land that would no longer be tended by my Momma. Sadness and Nostalgia washed over me, carving out a deep imprint of her love and unselfishness.

 I penned a tribute to her :

WHERE ONCE A GARDEN GREW

Where once a garden grew, now stands green grass and briars

within the cold, damp sod.

Where once a garden grew,

Momma talked with God.

The soil lies unfurrowed now, untouched

by Momma’s precious hands;

But memories flood my mind,

while on this spot I stand.

I hear her voice echo when I visit,

“Come, look at the tomatoes and the corn

by the green bean vines!”

I remember how blessed she was and acknowledged, “by God’s grace, this work is mine.”

I cherish every memory of the good that she has done.

I am blessed to have had a mother who cared for and loved everyone.

Where once a garden grew, plants flourished

in healthy bloom,

On this plot of land blessed by God, came fruit from the earth’s dark womb.

Momma’s love for God was seen--in the hard work and love,

As she tended her garden and watched it grow strong.

Then at the harvest, there came from her thankful heart a

Song …

“I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the Roses—

Credit: Author Charles Austin Miles ,1868-1946.

story copyright 2011

Momma and me

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