My Hometown

My Hometown

Mama's Patience

As we look ahead to this weekend’s Mother’s Day celebration, I think back to when I was younger and can now see the amount of patience that my mom actually had time after time.

My sister wasn’t too much of a problem, though she definitely had her moments that would test mom’s patience. But dad and I always caused additional work for poor old ma; especially when it came to doing the laundry.

We all had our chores to do around the house, but it seemed like mom’s washing machine was always running.

It was inevitable that at least two or three days a week dad would come home from work with splatters of oil all over his clothing; of course, each piece then had to be washed individually.

Every Sunday, we would get dressed up in our Sunday Best for church.

It was a constant battle to keep my tie clipped to my shirt all morning; I don’t think mom ever got to enjoy an entire church service without dealing with me fussin’ over my tie.

And after service – the simple rule was that before we played outside with our friends, we needed to change into our “play clothes.”

But just like every other boy on my block, as soon as we got home from church we’d jump out of the car and immediately begin to toss a football around; the whole time our mom’s wanting us to come inside and change clothes.

Sometimes we’d get inside to change before it happened, but more often than not a pass would go wide causing us to leap through the air to make an amazing catch; and to get a pair of nice grass stains on our good black slacks.

Into the washer they would go.

Mom may have shaken her head at us, but she never raised her voice.

She may have even explained why we needed to listen when we are told to do something.

She would always let us go back out and play once we changed; of course, we always got an extra chore added to our list and those were always the times that she would exercise her most amount of patience by teaching me the art of doing laundry.


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