Sunday, May 13, 2007

Mother o’ Mine

If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine
I know whose love would follow me still,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

If I were drowned in the deepest sea,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine
I know whose tears would come down to me,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

If I were damned of body and soul,
I know whose prayers would make me whole,
Mother o’ mine, 0 mother o’ mine!

by Rudyard Kipling

I am going back a long way with this one,
- a long, long way back!!

For a number of years while I was growing
up and attending St. Faith's Anglican Church
in Edmonton, this was the poem that depicted
Mothers' Day!

THE CANON (the Reverend Canon C.F.A. Clough)
was the rector at St. Faith's. He was
one of a number of Church of England
Ministers who came to serve in Canada
in the early twenties, and went on to
fill many posts as a Padre in the
Second World War, a leader and organizer
of the Western Division of the Boy Scouts,
and a rector who cared passionately about
his congregation, and nurtured them through
the years of the depression with a generous and

Was he a good preacher? That I do not know,
but when he married Husband and I on the 12th
of May, 1945, his only words of advice were
"Bear and Forebear" and they have served us well
all these many years. Short enough to be
remembered and practical enough to be applied
to any situation!

I remember him and Mrs. Clough for many tender
and loving reasons, - I remember his
frown as he turned during his sermon to
quieten the choir behind him.

And I remember him for his unfailing recitation
of this poem, year and after year,
when Mother's Day rolled around.

It seemed like a very dramatic thing for
a mother to have to do, and spoke to
the probable rascality of her wayward son.
But it also spoke to the unfailing
love of a mother for her children -
a love that dwells deep in the heart and is
not easily ousted.

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