By Bonita Hele
Dear Jesus, bless the mothers who sat up again last night, soothing their crying, colicky babies.
Bless the mothers who read the same favorite bedtime story night after night, even though they could recite it in their sleep.
Bless the mothers who keep a treasured collection of their children’s artwork, from the first scribble to the latest masterpiece.
Bless the mothers who help support their families, even when it means going to work with spit-up on their blouses, diapers in their purses, and teething rings on their key chains.
Bless the mothers who cheer the child who scored the winning goal, and bless the mothers who cheer on the child who has never scored a goal.
Bless the mothers who care for their sick children, treasuring the extra time together rather than begrudging the extra work.
Bless the mothers who daily teach their children the ways of love, peace, forgiveness, tolerance, and humility by their example.
Bless the mothers who teach their children to fold their hands in prayer, even before they can say a word.
Bless the mothers who acknowledge their mistakes and ask You to make up for their lacks.
Bless the mothers who never tire of praying for their children.
Bless the mothers who aren’t a picture of perfection but a personification of love.
Thank You, Lord, for mothers—old pro, rookie, or soon-to-be, single or married, rich or poor, mothers of their own children or mothers to the motherless—because without them we would not know that most beautiful thing, a mother’s love.