We never forget her, of course, that dear mother of ours; and because of her we like to do everything in our power to bring into the lives of other mothers, perchance alone and lonely, a touch of cheer that show brighten them for this day-the second Sunday in May-which is been set apart and christened the Mother’s Day. At least, I hope we like to do this, every one of us, and that the mission is never allowed to fail, for lack of generous support. If our own beloved mother is with us still, let us be thankful, let us rejoice that we are able to give her the assurance of our remembrance and devotion. But whether the best mother in the world to us is here, or beyond, we know that her glad approval will rest upon every effort of ours to make happy the day for some other.
And it is so easy and simple a thing to do, so blessed a habit to form and foster, this bringing of joy and sunshine into a life or a day that might need it! A dear woman told me that it has changed her entire outlook, and filled her own life with joy to which it had long been a stranger. “I cannot remember my own mother,” she said; “She passed to the world beyond when I was a mere baby. But I always felt that I had missed something. Somehow I felt ill-treated, and I suppose that feeling made me morbid and jealous. Looking back, it doesn’t seem to me I had a friend in the world, and I had really forgotten how to smile? Then came Mothers’ Day-and I resented more than ever the fact that I had no one to send tokens of affections to. I sat by my desk, moody and disconsolate, and suddenly I heard a gentle voice, so clear and distinct that it seemed as if there must be someone in the room with me: ‘Dear make me happy, and yourself, by making other mothers happy.’ You may say it was imagination-I said so, myself; but down in my heart I did not believe it was. I did not want to believe it, because it gave me such a sense of comfort and joy to feel that the dear mother I had never known was near me-and care that I was lonely. Why, it somehow changed everything! And since that very first Mother’s Day I have tried to do as I am so sure she desires me to. In my trips here and there, whether on pleasure or business, I take the address of any mother I come across, with a little notation which will help me to choose the remembrance she will enjoy receiving. My list is a long one now, and growing; and I cannot express the pleasure I find in sending out my simple greetings-sometimes not more than a postcard, again a booklet, an illuminated text, a dainty handkerchief, a subscription to a magazine I know will help to fill the hours, nothing of great intrinsic value but all bearing the same message, all telling that mother is not forgotten. It is a great joy to me, and has changed me from a most unhappy woman to a happy one.”