“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us. When trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.”
Washington Irving
Myra was eagerly waiting for her mother’s call on her twentieth birthday. Her mother was always the first one to wish her. Myra’s mother, Emily, was blind since childhood. All these years Emily’s world revolved around Myra – she had lost her husband when Myra was 2 years. She used to tell her daughter often about her father’s happiness when he was told that Myra could see the world. Myra’s father, who had also lost his vision in an accident, always wanted his child to see the beautiful world.
Emily moved to her mother’s town in order to give a better life to her daughter. She worked in a blind school, to ensure Myra’s education, and to help meet her daughter’s basic needs. Though Emily could not see, she celebrated Myra’s every happy occasion. Emily could always sense Myra’s joys and fears. During her school days Myra had lost her favourite pencil box, and was quite upset about it. Myra did not share the news with her mother, but Emily could sense Myra’s unhappiness. Emily decided to bake Myra’s all-time favourite apple pie, to make her feel cheerful. Myra was always astonished by her mother’s instinct to read her feelings. The next day Emily got a new pencil box for Myra. Myra was surprised as always.
It was now her twentieth birthday, and Myra was desperately waiting for her mother’s call. Myra was working in London, whereas Emily had chosen to stay in a semi-rural township on the outskirts of London. It was quite late when Myra received a call from her home. It was an unexpected call from her Nanny, to inform her about Emily’s worsening health. Myra took the first shuttle to her mother’s town. She was worried. On reaching she hesitantly rang the bell. Her Nanny opened the door, and hugged her tightly. She took Myra to Emily’s room. Emily was sleeping peacefully on her broken couch. Myra held her mother’s hand and asked her, “How are you?” Emily was too weak to respond to her. She grasped Myra’s hand tightly, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Myra gently wiped the tears of her mother. Emily kissed her daughter’s hand, and whispered in her ear, ‘Happy Birthday to you, Myra.’
“The only love that I really believe in is a mother’s love for her children.”
Karl Lagerfeld
Emily asked Nanny to give Myra her birthday gift. Myra could feel her mother’s pain. After a while, Emily slept. Nanny gave an antique wooden box to Myra. There was a letter in the box that Emily had written for her daughter. Myra sat on the sofa, and began to read her mother’s letter. Tears rolled down Myra’s cheeks as she read the letter, written with immense love, “Myra, I am not keeping well. It seems life’s journey is about to end for me. You always ask me how I can feel your pain and read your feelings. Yes, I cannot see this world as I am blind, but I have the heart of a mother. A mother’s heart does not need eyes to see her child’s pain, or a mind to think logically. A mother’s heart is like a mirror that reflects her child’s true feelings to her. The warmth of your hands tells me how you feel when you fail in an exam, or when you win a basketball match. I know you are excited when you stammer or stutter, or eat too fast. I know that you always look at the sky while walking with me in the garden, and pray to God for my vision. Though you have never mentioned to me, I know that you are the one who sends me yellow flowers on my birthday, on behalf of your father. I could not think of a better gift than this letter, on your twentieth birthday.”
Myra placed the letter in the box. She went up to Emily’s room, and saw her mother sleeping. She opened the door and walked up to her. She kissed her mother on her forehead, and whispered in her ear, “I am proud to be your daughter”.
“But there’s a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begin.”
Mitch Albom
Internationally published author of ‘14 Pearls of Inspiration’ and the ‘12 Facets of a Crystal’
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