This is one of the nicest
stories I've taken the time to read:
Invisible Mother
It all
began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while
I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the
phone?'
Obviously
not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the
corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands,
nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this??
Some days
I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide
to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30,
please.'
I was
certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that
graduated summa cum laude -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's
going, she's going, she's gone!?
One night,
a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from
a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at
the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty
pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a
book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her
inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one
sees.'
In the days
ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing
truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of
their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great
sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw
everything.
A legendary
story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman
carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time
carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it. And the workman replied,
'Because God sees.'
I closed
the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you,
Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.
No act of
kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile
over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become. At times, my
invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the
disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the
right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will
never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to
say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to
that degree.
When I
really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My
Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses
all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want
to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it
there.'
As mothers,
we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that
the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the
sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job,
MOM and DAD!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms and Dads you know... I just did. The Will of God will
never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you. This is beautiful and makes a ton of sense. To all the
wonderful mothers and fathers out there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am in much debt to my invisible Mother and Father.
by - Unknown
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