Happy Mothers Day!!

Vaishali Sundari

Happy Mothers Day! I don't think there should be only one out of 365 days in honor of a person who gives so selflessly, who works so tirelessly, who loves so unconditionally.

Since giving birth to our daughter Vaishali Sundari 4 and a half months ago, I have a new appreciation and understanding of what my own mother has felt for me since before I was born, and for what she has done since.

And now, as a new mother, I am tired, sleep-deprived and slightly neurotic, but I am also overjoyed and honored (and a little scared, truth be told) that Krsna has given me my own little Vaisnavi to raise.

My mother...

Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hush'd me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My Mother.

When sleep forsook my open eye,
Who was it sung sweet hushaby,
And rock'd me that I should not cry?
My Mother.

Who sat and watch'd my infant head,
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gaz'd upon my heavy eye,
And wept, for fear that I should die?
My Mother.

Who drest my doll in clothes so gay,
And taught me pretty how to play,
And minded all I had to say?
My Mother.

Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray,
And love God's holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom's pleasant way?
My Mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast so very kind to me,
My Mother.

Ah! no, the thought I cannot bear;
And if God please my life to spare,
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My Mother.

When thou art feeble, old, and gray,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My Mother.

And when I see thee hang thy head,
'Twill be my turn to watch thy bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed,
My Mother.

For could our Father in the skies
Look down with pleased or loving eyes,
If ever I could dare despise
My Mother.
- Ann Taylor