Mom of Many

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Category: poetry

Good Advice from Mother Teresa

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In poetry

Anyway

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

You see in the final analysis, it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.
by Mother Theresa

I Love You Mother by Joy Allison

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In poetry, Things I've Learned

“I love you, mother,” said little John.
Then, forgetting his work, his cap went on,
And he was off to the garden swing,

And left her the water and wood to bring.
“I love you, mother,” said rosy Nell—
I love you more than tongue can tell.”
But she teased and pouted full half the day

Till her mother was glad when she went to play.
“I love you, mother,” said little Fan;
“Today I’ll help you all I can;
How glad I am that school doesn’t keep.”

So she rocked the baby till it fell asleep.
Then slipping softly she took the broom
And swept the floor and dusted the room.
Busy and happy all the day was she,

Helpful and cheerful as a child should be.
“I love you, mother,” again they said,
Three little children going to bed.
How do you think that mother guessed
Which of them really loved her best?

by Joy Allison

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

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In poetry

This is a poem I ran across on Facebook written by an old friend, Natalie Rankin. Enjoy.

He LOVES Me, He Loves ME

The petals of the daisy teased a game for me that day,
“He loves me” and “He loves me not”-so I began to play.

With every time “He loves me” came my heart in hope would soar,
But when it was “He loves me not” the rains of doubt would pour

I knew the game was but in vain and yet I set my heart
to hope on something on the sand so bound to fall apart

And sure enough, with petals gone, I held the stem in hand-
With heavy sigh, I wondered why and tried to understand.

So gently came His still small voice, His precious word to me-
“My love is not in petals, Child-I MADE the flower for thee.”

“I see that thou hast plucked it clean, Yet I can make anew;
Though thou hast sinned against my love, My own remaineth true.”

So now, no flower can sway my heart; He loves me- this I know.
And why have I no need to doubt? The Bible tells me so.

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