A Parable and Motherhood

A PARABLE

I took a little child’s hand in mine. He and I were to walk together for a while. I was to lead him to the Father. It was a task that overcame me, so awful was the responsibility. And so I talked to the child of the Father. I painted the sternness of His face, were the child to do something to displease Him. I spoke of the child’s goodness as something that would appease the Father’s wrath. He walked under the tall trees and I said that the Father had power to send them crashing to the ground struck by His thunderbolts. We walked in the sunshine; I told him of the greatness of the Father who made the burning blazing sun. And one twilight, we met the Father. The child hid behind me. He was afraid. He would not look up at the face so loving; he remembered my picture. He would not take the Father’s hand; I was between the child and the Father. I wondered, I had been so conscientious, so serious.

I took a little child’s hand in mine. I was to lead him to the Father. I felt burdened with the many things I had to teach him. We did not ramble; we hastened from one spot to another spot. We compared the leaves of the different trees. While the child was questioning me about it, I hurried him away to chase a butterfly. Did he chance to fall asleep, I awakened him; lest he should miss something I wanted him to see. I poured into his ears all the stories he ought to know, but we were interrupted often by the wind a blowing, of which we must study, by the gurgling brook which we must trace to its source. And then in the twilight, we met the Father. The child merely glanced at Him and then his gaze wandered in a dozen different directions. The Father stretched for His hand. The child was not interested enough to take it. Feverish spots burned his cheeks. He dropped exhausted to the ground and fell asleep. Again, I was between the child and the Father. I wondered. I had taught him so many things.

I took a little child’s hand in mine, to lead him to the Father. My heart was full of gratitude for the glad privilege. We walked slowly, I united my steps with the short steps of the child. We spoke of the things the child noticed. Sometimes we picked the Father’s bright flowers and stroked their soft petals and loved their bright colors. Sometimes it was one of the Father’s birds. We saw the eggs that were laid. We wondered, elated at the care it gave its young. Often we told stories of the Father. I told them to the child and the child told them to me again. We told them, the child and I over and over again. Sometimes we stopped to rest, leaning against one of the Father’s trees, and letting His cool air cool our brow, never speaking. And then in the twilight, we met the Father. This child’s eyes shone. He looked lovingly, trustingly, eagerly up into the Father’s face. He put his hand into the Father’s hand. I was for the moment forgotten. I was content.Jean BetznerEspecially for Mormons Vol. 1

I have always loved this Parable since the first time I read it. Today especially on Mother's Day I was thinking of it and how it could apply to Mothers.
Being a Mom can be bitter sweet. If you do a good job and raise strong independent children, the day will come when they wont need you as they once did. They will be able to stand on their own feet and live their own lives.
Sometimes we fear that day and feel that we will lose that special bond that was there when they were little.If we understand that they are not ours but are Heavenly Fathers and our job is to help them learn to depend on HIM and not us, then we can better understand what true joy is as a parent.Like in the parable, sometimes we need to be careful to not come between the child (at any age) and the FATHER.
If we truly love our children, we will do all that we can to lead them to the FATHER and step back and have joy in seeing them become true sons and daughters of God.
I am so very thankful for the privilege of being the earthly mother to 8 wonderful individuals. Each one has grown up to be pretty neat people. They are doing wonderful jobs with their children. They are living good lives and no longer need me as they once did. I am proud of each and every one of them. They each know the Lord and are living the Gospel.
I am content.