This has been a month of heartwarming stories. I’m so happy that six readers shared the stories of their mothers. I’m happy that 46 readers posted at least one comment and a few of you several. Commenting really gives that two-way street that blogging is meant to be.
Very soon I’m going to put the names of the readers who posted comments and shared stories into a hat and draw out the name of the winner of the MEGA May gift basket.
I’ll be announcing the winner sometime this week. When I started this blog, I did it to have a way to converse with readers and to start a source of stories that inspire women.
No matter what career we choose as women, we always have family to care for and love. (We won’t talk about children in the teen years. GRIN) And I think it is heartening to hear the stories of other women who show strength and bravery in this life that can be so hard at times. From what readers and authors have posted, many of us are in the sandwich generation where we have adult children and parents who need us. We carry a heavy load of love.
I hope you’ll invite friends to join us here at StrongWomenBraveStories.blogspot.com so they can be inspired to stand strong for themselves and their families.
Another Christian writer shares this tribute to her mother.
“It was my mother’s house—a two-story, semidetached, red-brick dwelling—with a flower garden and many trees and shrubs in front. It was my home, too. And a safe haven for many in need of comfort. Some came through its doors to stay for only a week and others for longer periods. This included children, grandchildren, siblings, friends and members of Mother’s church. Each found in my mother a sympathetic heart and words of encouragement. “This’ll always be your home, too,” she’d say to me. Her house was very modestly kept with simple furniture, worn carpets and many plants. At times it seemed overcrowded with people living there.
I was pursuing my career goals then and wrapped up in my own world. Even now I feel ashamed that I didn’t do more to keep the place looking tidy. When my mother no longer needed her home, it became mine. So, seventeen years ago, as a newly married couple, my husband and I took occupancy. Since Mother’s death, we’ve done some remodeling. We’ve added rooms, replaced doors and windows, removed carpets to expose hardwood floors, and stripped wallpaper and painted the walls lighter colors. The former owner would no longer recognize it as her house. Fifteen years ago we adopted a newborn. We turned Mom’s old bedroom into his nursery, and I hung a portrait of her in the room. I felt so sorry for our little one that he would never get to know his grandmother. “Your grandmother planted that dogwood tree. I gave it to her for Mother’s Day,” I told my son as we looked through the same window that she had looked through for twenty-five years. Two years later Joshua was born. Again, I had feelings of regret that my mother was not around to enrich his life. I tried to keep her memory alive by talking to my sons about their grandmother. “Grandmom would be so happy to know you both are here,” I would tell Johnny and Joshua. My husband and I provide a positive and nurturing environment for our boys.
I’m trying to set a good example of a mother and homemaker, because I had a wonderful role model in my own mother. One day this house may belong to one or both of my sons, and it will be their privilege to make it into a home. It’s the giving from the heart from those in the home—not the appearance of the house—that creates the lasting memories for others. I still miss my mother after all these years. Her Godly influence lives on in me and is felt by my children.
Drop by www.patjeannedavis.com to read more from Pat. Thanks, Pat–Lyn
Today, a longtime friend Author Cindy Kirk shares a special story of a mother’s love. Here’s Cindy:
“From the time I was a little girl, I always wondered if I was adopted. I didn’t resemble either of my parents or any of my relatives. Whenever I asked I was told that I looked like my father’s mother who had died before I was born.
I didn’t find out until after I was an adult and my mother had died, that I was a product of donor insemination. (I was contacted by a “sibling” with whom I share the same donor father) Thankfully before I said anything to the father I’d grown up with, I discovered that my mother may not have told him about the insemination. What would make me think that?
The fact that “his” signature on the authorization form looked more like hers than his. The fact that he once told me he’d never met her doctor, which said the form wasn’t signed in front of the doctor or his staff. And the fact that my father was so opposed to raising children that weren’t his biologically that he’d refused to adopt. Would such a man have agreed to donor insemination? That my father was opposed to adoption may give you the impression he wasn’t a good or kind man.
Nothing could be further from the truth. But for some reason, he refused to look at options that would give my mother what she so desperately wanted…a child. My mother was a strong woman and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she’d done something to make her own dreams come true. Do I feel bad that she lied? I feel bad that she felt she “had” to lie. I feel bad that my father didn’t care enough about what she wanted to find some middle ground. I truly believe it would have been a shame if she’d never had a child. She was such a good parent. And so was my father.
She and my dad had been married had been married forty-eight years when she died of cancer. They had a happy marriage though I’m sure keeping this secret weighed on my mother’s heart. In “Your Ranch or Mine?” my Silhouette Special Edition, coming out in July, the heroine (Anna) has a secret that weighs heavy on her heart. Unlike in my real life story, in the book the secret is revealed and Anna discovers the truth really can set you free…”
Thanks, Cindy. That is a more than interesting story. And I’m sorry too that your mother couldn’t open your father’s eyes to her deepest need. I think this is one of those occasions where love can cover a sin. And I and many others are happy you were conceived!–Lyn
Here’s a story from another reader who wanted to honor her mother. Here’s Wendy:
“At 19 my mom found herself pregnant. She waited until Christmas to tell her parents, and I was born barely a month later. They welcomed me with open arms. We lived with my grandparents. I guess I need to add that during this time my mom helped to raise my Aunt’s kids as well. She has 6 kids and had an abusive husband, so the kids always came to my mom for things. When I was only a few years old my grandfather learned he had cancer. He died when I was three. During his final days he wanted to die at home, so my mom and grandma took are care of him and allowed him to do that. She was only 23 when he passed away.
From then we lived just my mom, me and grandma. My grandmother couldn’t work, due to health issues, and weight, so my mom worked to support us all. Plus to help care for my aunt’s kids. My grandmother got sicker and towards the end of her life, she wanted to die at home, so my mom had to quit her job so she could be there with my grandmother and allow her that small gift. I turned 11 the day we buried my grandmother and my mom was going to be 31 in a few months. So by the age of 31 she had lost both parents, her main support system.
She never once got support from my biological father. She tried but back then, well child support wasn’t as widely done as it is now. So we made do with what we could. There were times we went without lights, because it was either pay the bill or get food. There were times she worried we’d not have a place to live. We moved around a LOT. When a home was beginning to be too much for us to pay the rent we would move. During the time my grandmother was dying she promised her she’d go to school to be a nurse, so we struggled so she could do just that. I remember helping her study for tests. She got her LPN and decided to go to work rather than going on for her RN degree because we needed the money.
I can honestly say while she worried the times we did without would be some of my worst, I remember them fondly. We had fun. I got to play Little House on the Prairie. During it all she worked hard to make sure I knew she loved me, and while she could have made the choice to either never have me, or give me away she didn’t. That took alot of guts especially in a small town during the 70s. She did a great job, she took care of me, she showed me that women could be anything and that while life sometimes doesn’t go as we plan, there are hidden blessings in there. I’ll admit that when my grandfather died she had a lot of anger towards God. But she always made sure I went to church, and that I knew she was angry but that didn’t mean I should be. She has found her way back to God over the years and now I see her with a stronger relationship with him.
She married not long after I got married and over the years while we’ve remained mother and daughter we are also best friends. She is the strongest woman I know. I could tell you more but I think I might have said more than you wanted. I’m not sure. I know that my mom found herself a single mother without her parents by the age of 31. Her only sister was in her own situation and really offered us no help. She tried to help her sister’s kids as often as she could and in anyway she could. At various times they all either nearly lived with us, or did in fact live with us. She never turned them away, no matter what they needed she tried to provide it.
We were all a team, my mom, me and my cousins. She really had only us and we had her. We made it. And she showed me that I could do anything and I’d always have her to support me. I’m very proud of my mom and I hope to be as strong as she is.” Thank you, Wendy, for sharing your mom’s story. Her life is an inspiration.–Lyn
Love Inspired Author Ramona Richards didn’t know how strong she was until she became a mother herself. Here’s Ramona:
“I come from a long line of strong women. A healer and a midwife. The wife of a tenant farmer who raised her own siblings after her mother died. A musician whose shop-keeper husband lost his business during the Depression. My own mother married an over-the-road truck driver, which meant she spent much of her adult life raising two kids on her own.
I, on the other hand, was the pampered one. While I am old enough to remember when tape recorders were reel-to-reel and televisions only black-and-white, I grew up smart, fat, and sassy. School work came easy to me, and I spent my days curled under a tree with a book. Only after I got married did God send me to the forge for molding.
In 1987 I gave birth to Rachel, whose severe disabilities came as a total shock to both of us. Doctors told us she wouldn’t live long, and my own deep post-partum depression complicated the grief that rocked us. We had to mourn the child we had been expecting and find the depths of our love for the child we had. That last part was the easiest; the rest tore us apart.
Rachel and God have given the doctors a run for their money. She’s still here, and I’ve been a single mom since 1993. The healing came slowly; the times were rough. God has been answering prayers left and right, however, and since 1998, I’ve had a series of caregivers (Phyllis, Kim, and Marti), who adore Rachel and make it possible for me to keep a job, write, and travel. (To see more about Rachel, click on this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ys5oxl3Uw5k
And everything I’ve been through has an impact on what—and how—I write. In The Taking of Carly Bradford, Dee’s grief and her healing journey in some ways mirrors my own. I also talked to other parents who had lost children, and I drew on my memories of when one of my best friends was murdered.
But The Taking of Carly Bradford is not just about loss and healing; it’s also about finding triumph in our lives through faith and friends. It’s about a little girl who has an unshakable belief in God’s provision—and in His warriors here on earth. It’s about how love can bloom in the midst of trial, and how Jehovah Jireh is always, always by our side when we need and call on Him.
Let’s hope that, like little Carly Bradford, we never forget that.”
Thanks for sharing that Ramona. Ladies, don’t forget to drop by www.loveinspiredauthors.com and enter the contest there. It’s open till June 15th. And on there you can read more about Ramona and her books.–Lyn
Today’s book is by my friend Linda Hall who writes compelling suspense spiced with a great romance.
“SHADOWS ON THE RIVER is the story of Ally Roarke. When she was a young teenager she saw her best friend pushed to her death. Here are Ally’s own words: “I was only fourteen when I witnessed a murder on the riverbank. A murder that went unpunished. Unless you count what happened to my family. We were forced out of town by the teenage killer’s prominent parents. And the murder was forgotten—by everyone but me. Now, the killer is a respected businessman. I can’t let him get away with it. But I’m a single mother with a child to protect, what can I do? The new man in my life, Mark Bishop, warns me to be careful. For there’s already been another murder. Close to home.” What others are saying:- “With a voice well suited to mystery and suspense, Hall creates an almost gothic atmosphere and a wonderfully satisfying conclusion in this final installment of her Shadows series.” Romantic Times 4 stars
A bit about Linda:Award winning and twice Christy-nominated author Linda Hall has written fifteen novels plus many short stories. She has also worked as a freelance writer, news reporter and feature writer for daily newspaper.She grew up in New Jersey where her love of the ocean was nurtured. Most of her novels have something to do with the sea. When she’s not writing, Linda and her husband enjoy sailing the St. John River system and the coast of Maine. In the summer we basically move aboard their 34′ sailboat aptly named – “Mystery.” Linda invites you to her website: http://writerhall.com Shadows on the River can be ordered from most online bookstores such as amazon, http://www.amazon.com/Shadows-River-Steeple-Inspired-Suspense/dp/0373443366/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1243103383&sr=8-1
Sorry, Linda, but when I saw your name for your sailboat, I thought better than “Misery.” I have never sailed but it looks like hard work to me! Bravo for you and your dh. And thanks for writing another book I can get my teeth into and enjoy–Lyn
Throughout this month, I have been touched by the stories from readers about the strong women in their lives. Today, Edna T shares about her mother. Here’s Edna T:
“The woman that I respect the most was my Mama. She was born 1898 and lost her mom when she was four at the birth of her sister. Her dad let some of the relatives raise the sister but mom had to stay and do work that any 4 year old should never have to do. Then her dad remarried and the step-mother was not good to her, but she survived and became a very good person.
She married my dad when she was 20 and started having babies, she had 10 in all with one set of twins, I came late when mom was 45, so I am the baby of the family. My Mom always gardened, and did all the things what a woman of that time era had to do. She had no running water, no electricity etc, until later on. My Dad died with cancer when I was 8 in 1951 leaving Mama with 4 kids to finish raising. My brother next to me was 7 years older than I, then another brother and an older sister.
We all four were the youngest of the tribe. Mom washed clothes with her hands for people and ironed, she finally got a winger type washer but had to draw water from a well and you can be we lazy kids didn’t do anything that we could get out of. She sewed. made cakes and did anything she could to get enough to feed us and keep me in school.
That was my choice not hers as she had only a 4th grade education. I was the only one out of the 10 that graduated HS and I did it on time, that was because I loved to read and the school library was the only place for me to get book, I read a book a night.
She became a Christian late in life after I married and boy was she a Christian, when she lived with me she would pray every night and we could hear her in her bed talking to God. Thank the Heavenly Father He got a good one in her. She never had a bad word to say about anyone even before she got saved, she was just a very loved SOUTHERN LADY, but her Dad was a full blooded German.
My mom fell the night my oldest son was graduating from HS, in 1980 and never recovered from it. She had already had to start living among us kids as she could not take care of herself. She passed away in June and was buried on Father’s Day. And even after 29 years, I miss her so much and even talk to her sometimes, wishing she could see my grandbabies.”
As I always say, “Every woman has a story. Shares yours.”–Lyn
Today another Wisconsin author, Kara Lynn Russell is sharing the story of a woman who never married but was willing to “mother” her young siblings in hard times. Here’s Kara:
“Before I wrote romance, I was a children’s librarian and I truly enjoy children’s literature. I also enjoy finding out the story behind the story. For example, did you know that author L. Frank Baum was attempting to create a truly American fairy tale when he wrote The Wonderful Wizard of Oz?
One figure in children’s literature, that I admire and who is all but forgotten today, is Wanda Gag (pronounced Gog.) She is the author and illustrator of Millions of Cats, a Newberry Honor book in 1929 and the oldest American children’s book still in print. Wanda Gag was, in her own time, a successful artist as well as a children’s book author and illustrator. Success did not come easily, though. She was born in New Ulm, Minnesota in 1893. When she was 14, her artist father passed away, leaving Wanda as the head of the household. At that young age, she became responsible for six younger siblings and her seriously ill mother. Neighbors criticized her for continuing with school instead of working full time. But Wanda insisted that she and her siblings would all get a good education. She even rejected offers to adopt her younger siblings, insisting that they should all stay together. Wanda worked hard to support her family, raise her sibling and pursue a career in art.
Eventually, Wanda was able to leave home and attend art school in St. Paul, Minneapolis and New York. She settled on the east coast and became first a fashion illustrator and then an artist, producing drawings, lithographs and watercolors and finally after much rejection, a children’s book author and illustrator. Wanda died of lung cancer in 1946. Two of her books, Millions of Cats in 1929, and The ABC Bunny in 1934, were Newbery Honor Books. Two more books, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs in 1939, and Nothing at All in 1942, were Caldecott Honor Books. She also received the Lewis Carroll Shelf Award posthumously for Millions of Cats.
Wanda was undoubtedly successful in her career and I enjoy her work, but I think her greatest accomplishment was in raising her six younger siblings and insisting that they all get an education. Perhaps conquering the worlds of art and publishing seemed easy after that!
**** Kara Lynn Russell is the author of the Orchard Hill Romance Series from White Rose Publishing. The stories are available for download now and in three print volumes on December 4. Also in December, ask for The Prodigal Father from Five Star Expressions at your local library. Visit her on the web at www.karalynnrussell.googlepages.com.
Today, Missy Tippens, a newer Love Inspired Author, guests and tells a precious story of love and family. Here’s Missy:
“Lyn, thank you so much for having me today. I wanted to share with all of you a little about one of the strongest women I’ve known. My grandmother.
Nanny was born in 1900, and I remember being enthralled to hear about all the changes that took place in her lifetime–the airplane, TV, computers, microwave ovens (which she refused to use!). But in some ways, she was a woman before her time. When she was a young woman (about 18), she decided to go to business school. After a year there, though, she got meningitis and had to leave. Then sometime after that, her father died from the flu epidemic of 1918. That left my great-grandmother with five children, the oldest already married, with his own family, so he couldn’t help out. My great-grandmother wasn’t able to hold her family together, so they had to put three of the younger children in an orphanage. But my grandmother was determined to get her family back together.
Using the limited schooling she had achieved, she took her mother and moved to Jenkins, Kentucky, where she got a job as a bookkeeper for a coal company. Once she was able, she got her youngest sister out of the orphanage and took care of her and my great-grandmother. (The twin boys were nearly old enough for independent living by then.) My great-aunt always praised my grandmother for all she did for their family. And you know, my grandmother took care of her own mother for the rest of her life, even after she married and had a family. My grandmother also helped my grandfather start a dry cleaning business.
Then she opened her own clothing store—where I got all my clothes while I was growing up! Even though Nanny was a career woman, she still made time to spend with her grandchildren. She was only 5 feet tall, but I would sit in her lap while she rocked me in her rocking chair even after my feet dragged the floor, even into my college years. I loved Nanny so much. She died in 1990, and I still miss her.
So during this month of Mother’s Day, I’d like to honor my grandmother for being a strong woman with a brave story. For being a determined woman. And a loving woman.”
I’m truly inspired by the stories of Mothers that have been posted. Here is Darcie’s tribute:
“My mother was a simple southern country woman who was loved by everyone in the community. We were poor and she worked very hard in the fields growing produce to sell as well as to can and feed us and anyone else that needed food. She often plowed a mule as we kids sewed the seed or as we chopped the weeds. She was known as “Big Mama” to the kids in the neighborhood, I guess cause she was 6 foot tall and a plus sized lady. The coffee pot was always hot and the table was laden with old fashion county eats including the best chicken and dumplings ever as well as scratch made “cathead biscuits, gravies,cornbread, field peas, fried okra, dressing steak and gravy. Often there were at least 20-30 folks there to be fed at meal time. It was all simple food but was plentiful because she raised it.
Our life was kind of like the Amish people except we did have electricity. We did not have television or other entertainment. We worked so hard we were glad to go to bed at nightfall. In the later years we ran a meat packing place and mama often killed the animals, dressed them put them in the cooler till ready to be cut and wrapped for the customer’s freezer. She knew ever cut of meat there was even when a lady tried to get her to cut Pork chops from a side of beef….. she cut the rib chops and asked the lady, “is this what you want ?” of course that was it. She just did not know how else to explain what she wanted.
My mother was the brunt of most jokes because she never got the punch line till it was explained to her. She was happy most of the time and went around singing gospel songs. I am proud that she raised me to work hard and to know the importance of an education. She was so happy when I graduated from nursing school and became a Registered Nurse.
I try to live my life now according to the way my mother lived, even though I am disable on the good days I do my best to help others or at leave get them to smile or laugh. One of my favorite things to do is to see someone having a bad day and tell them, “SMILE MAKE EVERYONE WONDER WHAT YOUR THINKING” God Bless you and yours and may everyone have wonderful memories of their mother. Remember to enjoy your mother while you can and most often it is the little things that count the most.
Be Happy……… Smile make others wonder what your thinking!” Darcie” What an inspiring story, Darcie!
