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