The Depth Of A Mother's Love

One summer afternoon, a young mother laid her baby girl to sleep in her cradle. She said to herself “I’ll just go to meet one of my friends in the neighborhood for a minute or so to visit. I haven’t had time to talk with her for such a long time." But while she and her friend were having their ladies talk, the city fire alarm sent a chill through them both. “Don’t worry,” said her friend. “Most likely it’s only a grass fire. There are lots of them at this time of year. I’m sure the fire isn’t anywhere near here.” 

“But listen,” said the mother. “I think I hear the fire engine coming this way. Look! People are running down the street- running toward my house!” Without another word, she dashed into the street and ran with the gathering crowd. Then she saw it. Her own house was on fire! Smoke and flames were already pouring through the roof. “My baby!” she cried frantically. “My baby!” The crowd was thick around the house, but she pushed and shoved until she reached the door. A fireman stopped her and said, “You can’t go in there! You will be burned!” But the mother cried, “Let me go! Let me go!” as she broke free and dashed into the flaming house. She knew just where to go. Running through the smoke and flames, she seized her precious baby, then turned to make her way out. But by now the smoke made it very hard to see and breathe. 

Nearly overcome, she swayed and fell, and would not have made it out of the house safely if a fireman had not picked her up and carried her out. What a cheer went up as they appeared! Baby Marjorie was not hurt at all! But the poor mother’s hands were terribly burned. Kind friends took care of the baby while the ambulance took her to the hospital. The doctors did their best, but her hands were terribly scared. 

Years later, when Marjorie had grown, she suddenly noticed something she had not noticed before. Her mother’s hands were so ugly! “Why are your hands so ugly?” she asked her mother when they were alone. Tears filled her mother’s eyes as she remembered how frightened she was the day the house burned with Marjorie asleep and unaware of the danger. “Have I said something wrong?” Marjorie asked when she saw the tears. “No, my dear,” replied her mother. “But there’s a story I need to tell you.” 

Then she told Marjorie the story of the fire. She told how the people tried to hold her back, how the fireman tried to stop her, how she battled the flames to rescue her, how she fell, and how they were rescued. Then she held out her scarred hands for Marjorie to see. “They are ugly, in a way, aren’t they,” Mother said softly. “For me, the only thing that mattered was to save your life.” Now it was Marjorie’s turn to shed a few tears. “Oh, Mother,” she cried, “You must love me so much! These are the most beautiful hands in all the world!” 

Do you know there are hands that were hurt for you? Do you know there’s someone who suffered pains so you can have gains? At times we imagined the pains and stress that our parents, especially our mothers have gone through to take us to where we are today. How much love have we shown back to them? If we could and should be grateful to our parents for all they’ve done for us, how much more the one who gave his life for us, won’t we appreciate and honor him? And I’m absolutely sure that there’s nothing else he wouldn’t give if we’ll believe and trust him for it.

Excerpt from my book - LIFE IN GOD'S HANDS

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