Arms of a Mother

Into the arms of our mother we are born, as we arrive in this unknown world. From our first breath, from life’s first cry, she enfolds us until her final breath .

It is her arms that cradle us, her hands that rock us to sleep. It is a mother’s arms that soothe our fears, her hands that wipe our tears. Ensconced in her arms, loved and protected, the world we view is magical.

In her arms we learn to talk, it is her hand we hold tight, as we learn to walk, to take our first steps. Those arms are strong and gentle. At times to console, at times to protect, at times to take up arms to defend us, and then at times, to chastise .

Never idle, they work ceaselessly, to nourish our body and enrich our mind . Wisdom they impart and teach us well, to guide us through life’s perilous journey. Praising our small victories , they encourage us and turn even our failure into success.

When trouble comes knocking , it is to her arms we run for shelter. Burdened by the the weight of trials, we find respite in her warm embrace. Sharing our joys and our sorrows, a mother walks with her child, through the hazards of life.

The arms of a mother, always ready to serve are our constant source of succour. And when they can do so no more, they are joined together in prayer, beseeching the heavens above, to be to her children her hands .

But as time goes by, those arms grow weak and frail. Once our sustenance ,now our dependants , they rely on us for their being . When that time comes, may each child care for those selfless arms that nurtured and gave them life .