by Anita S. Meily
What is a Mother‘s love? A noble, pure and tender flame enkindled from above. - James Montgomery
“GOD could not be everywhere physically. So He created mothers.” This is a common saying. Everybody loves a mother, for it is our mothers who gave us life. The word, “mother” conjures feelings like unconditional love, security, and acceptance. Hence, the saying, “his is a face only a mother can love.” Mother also means peace and comfort. “My soul is tranquil like a child in its mother‘s breast.” (Ps. 131:12)
A mother‘s love is absolutely necessary for the normal upbringing of a child – for his emotional, mental, and psychological development. Rene Spitz, an Australian psychiatrist, showed in his studies that children reared without motherly love developed psychiatric disturbances or became problem children.
When we speak of motherly love, we are referring to the person who does the mothering and loves the child. This is not necessarily always the biological mother. This may even be the father or the adoptive parent.
Studies show that if bonding between child and the adoptive mother is established early in life, whatever close relationship may be formed later in life between the child and the biological mother will no longer be comparable to that formed with the adoptive mother.
Motherly love must be made visible and truly felt by the child. This is manifested through sound, touch, and smile. Make affectionate cooing sounds to the baby. Cuddle, fondle, kiss, and hug the child often. Touch is important, during the first three years of its life. A smiling face conveys love and acceptance. Studies suggest that if the child does not feel loved in his/her early years, it will be difficult, if not impossible, to repair the physical and emotional damage that may result from this.
Love is not inborn. It is learned. We can only give love if we have felt and known how it is to be loved.
As the child grows, however, love must be communicated more in the psychological attitude of the mother, expressed in the time, attention, and interest she gives. An adolescent once told me, “The time my mother spends with me makes me so special.” Words and feelings should flow freely between them.
This does not mean that the mother should not discipline a child. Discipline, it is said, is a bond of love. Only one who loves can discipline the child. The child will feel more secure if there are limits set by the mother, and she sees to it that these are kept.
There is no such thing as a perfect mother. I have made mistakes in my mothering years, and still do at my age. In fact, my children relate the many booboos I made, and we laugh about them together. As long as the mother truly loves the child, and the child knows this, she need not worry that her mistakes will damage the child for life. It is the whole spectrum of a mother‘s constant love that matters.
The most important task of motherly love as the child grows is to provide the loving support and encouragement needed by the child to become his own person. Then – let go. Motherly love, however, never ends. One never ceases being a mother.
In a beautiful homily, Bishop Socrates Villegas compared water with a mother. “Man cannot live without water,” he said. “Neither can man live without a mother.” Water gives life; mothers are instruments of life. Abuse water by destroying the rain forests and watersheds, and floods will destroy the earth. Destroy mothers and you destroy the world. “When you see a mother, you see God,” concluded Bishop Soc. Bless All Mothers!
Explain the importance of a mother in the following passages: a. Discipline is bond of love. From the passage, we can say that a mother's duties do not revolve solely around loving her child through showing care and affection but also through discipline because, through this, children will be able to see how he or she should act during different circumstances and will help those children mature into reputable adults in the future. Mothers are the ones who provide unconditional love and support. Therefore this is suited for motherly figures, because as the author says, "Only one who loves can discipline the child."
b. The most important task of motherly love as the child grows is to provide the loving support and encouragement needed by the child to become his own person. Then – let go. Motherly love, however, never ends. One never ceases being a mother.
As hard as it is for a mother to let go of her child whom she raised and nourished, it is an essential step for a child to grow, mature, and be part of the community. However, this should not be the end of motherly love. Though a child already established the kind of person he or she wants to be, it need not stop the mother to offer her support for the child. Mothers simply need to give space for their children to discover things on their own.
Bishop Villegas compared the mother to a water. To what can you compare your mother and why? Or if you see your mother, you see what?
I can compare my mother to a lighthouse that guides ships to the shore whenever a storm is present. When I feel lost or aimless, I always seek my mother's guidance and advice. She never fails to tell me just what I need to hear, and she always sees to it that I am doing things that are especially important in my life. She always tells me to stick to what I love, reassuring me that she'll always be there supporting me no matter what.
by Alberto S. Florentino
After the liberation of Manila, hundreds of indigent families settled in the squalid, cramped space of the bombed ruins of an old government building of Juan Luna. For more than a decade these “squatters” tenaciously refused to move out in spite of court rulings. The “casbah”, as the compound was popularly known, became a breeding place for vice and corruption. The city government was able to evict the “squatters” only on December 20, 1958 – five days before Christmas.
(On the middle of the stage, extending from side to side, is a stone wall one and a half feet high. At left may be seen a portion of a tall edifice. At right, is a portion of the “casbah”. Beyond the stone wall, an estero (unseen) – and the sky. A five-year-old girl sits on the stone wall, her thin legs dangling in the air. Offstage there is a continuous commotion of evacuation. A woman’s voice rises above the commotion as she reprimands a child for getting in her way. A six-year-old boy appears on stage walking backwards – away from his mother, nagging offstage. The mother quiets down. The boy turns around and plays with his toy: an empty milk can pulled along the ground with a piece of string.)
Girl: Is there a fire? Boy: (Stops playing and faces her) Huh? Girl: I said, is there a fire? Boy: There is no fire. (Continues to play) Girl: (Looks toward the street. After a pause.) I think there is no fire. Boy: (Stops playing_ I told you there’s none. Girl: There is. Boy: How do you know? Do you see any smoke? Do you hear any fireman? (resumes his play. Runs around imitating a fire engine) EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I like it when there is a big fire! Girl: (Worried) If there is no fire, why are they putting these things out? (pints to a pile of household belongings nearby) Boy: Because we are being thrown out. Girl: Who told you? Boy: My mother. Girl: Who is throwing us out? Boy: (Sits on the other end of the stone wall) The government. Girl: What is a government? Boy: I don’t know. Girl: You didn’t ask your mother? Boy: I forgot to ask her. Girl: Why should the government throw us out? Boy: (Points to the compound) Because it owns this. Girl: (Enraged) But this is ours! Boy: No, it is not ours. Girl: (Insistent) It is ours! It is! Boy: It is not! Girl: (A tiny scream) It is! It is! Boy: (Loud) How do you know it is ours? Girl: We’ve always been here, haven’t we? Boy: Yes, but that doesn’t mean it is ours. Girl: (After a pause) If they throw us out, we’ll have nowhere to go. How about you? You have any place to go? Boy: None. But we will have one. (Proudly) My mother has a job. Girl: She has? Boy: Yes! Girl: What does she do?
Boy: She reads hands. Girl: She reads – hands? (Looking at her hands) Why does she read hands? Boy: So she can tell what will happen tomorrow. Girl: She can do that? By reading hands? Boy: Yes, She can! Girl: (Showing him her hands) Can she read my hands? I want to know where we will stay tomorrow. Boy: She can’t read your hands. Girl: (Looks at them) Why not? Boy: They are too small… and dirty. Girl: (She quickly withdraws them and quietly wipes them on her dress) Boy: Besides… she reads only men’s hands. Girl: Only men’s hands? Why? Boy: Because they are big.. and easy to read. Girl: How does she read hands? Like she reads the comics? Boy: I don’t know. Girl: You don’t know? Don’t you watch her? Boy: My mother won’t let me. She makes me go out and play. And she closes the door. Girl: She closes the door! How can she read in the dark? Boy: I don’t know. (Proudly) But she can! Girl: Don’t you ever peep? Boy: No, I don’t. Girl: Why not? Boy: She’ll beat me up. (Commotion offstage.) Girl: What’s that? What’s happening there? Boy: (Tries to see) I don’t know. I can’t see. (Pulls her) Come out, let’s take a look! Girl: (Resisting) I can’t. Boy: Why not? Girl: My father told me to stay here. He said not to go anywhere. Boy: (Turning) Then I will go and take a look. Girl: (Frightened) No, don’t. Stay here. Don’t leave me. Boy: Why? Girl: I’m afraid. Boy: Afraid of what? Girl: I don’t know. Boy: But how can we find out what’s happening? Girl: Let’s not find out anymore. Boy: (Restless) But I want to see. (Scampers up the stone wall) I can see from here! Girl: What do you see? Boy: (Incredulous) They are destroying our homes. (Sound of wrecking crew at work) Girl: (frightened) Who are destroying them? Boy: The men with hammers! Girl: Nobody is stopping them? Boy: Nobody. Girl: But why? Are there no policemen? Boy: There are. There are many policemen. Girl: What are they doing? What are the policemen doing? Boy: Nothing. Girl: Nothing? They are not stopping the men? Boy: No. Girl: Why not? Boy: I don’t know. (Commotion. Shouts. Curses) Girl: (Alarmed) What’s happening now? Boy: (excited throughout) A man is trying to stop the men with hammers! Now the policemen are trying to stop him. They’re running after him. But the man fights like a mad dog! (A man shouts, cursing) Girl: (Suddenly, with terror in her voice). That’s my father! (In her fright she covers her eyes with hands) Boy: Your father? Girl: Yes, he’s my father! What are they doing to him? Are they hurting him? Boy: No, they are only trying to catch him… Now they’ve caught him! They are tying his hands! Girl: What will they do to him? Boy: I don’t know. Now they are putting him in a car. A police car. Girl: (Whimpers) Father… Father… Boy: They are taking him away! (A car with siren drivers away) Girl: (Screams) FATHER! FATHER! Boy: He can’t hear you now. Girl: (Starts to cry) Boy: (Walks to and sits beside her) Why are you crying? Don’t cry please… Girl: They are going to hurt my father, aren’t they? Boy: No, they won’t hurt him. Girl: (Removes her hands from her eyes) How do you know? Boy: I just know it. (Suddenly) Come, let’s sing a song. Girl: I don’t know how to sing. Boy: I’ teach you. Girl: How? Boy: I’ll sing… and you listen. (She nods and wipes her eyes dry) Boy: (Sings) Saylenay… Olinay… Oliskam… Olisbray… Ranyonberginmaderenchayle… Oli impansotenderenmayle… Slipinebenlipis… Slipinebenlipis… Girl: (Smiling) That’s a pretty song. Who taught you that song? Boy: (Proudly) My mother! Girl: What does it mean? I can’t understand it. Boy: It’s about God. Girl: What’s a “God”? Boy: I don’t know. I haven’t asked my mother. But she told me God was born in a stable. Girl: What’s a stable? Boy: A place for horses. Girl: (Incredulous) He was born there? In a place for horses? Why? Boy: My mother said he had nowhere to stay. Girl: Was he poor? Boy: I don’t know. Girl: (Suddenly) I like the song. Will you sing it again? Boy: No, let’s sing it together. Girl: I told you, I don’t know how. Boy: I’ll teach you. I’ll sing it a little… and you sing after me. (She smiles and nods) Boy: (Sings) Saylenay… Girl: Saylenay… Boy: Olinay… Girl: Olinay… Boy: Oliskam… Girl: Oliskam… Boy: Olisbray… Girl: Olisbray… Boy: Ranyonberginmaderenchayle… Girl: Ranyon…(She giggles) I can’t say that! Boy: Let’s skip it. (Sings) Oli impan… n, skip that, too. (Sings) Slipinebenlipis… Girl: Slipinebenlipis… Boy: Slipinebenlipis… Girl: Slipinebenlipis…
by Macario D. Tiu
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE (1609)
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art/ more lovely/ and more temperate:
Rough winds/ do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease/ hath all too short a date;
Sometime/ too hot/ the eye of heaven shines,
And often/ is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair/ from fair sometime declines,
By chance/ or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer/ shall not fade,
Nor lose possession/ of that fair thou owest;
Nor, shall death/ brag thou wander’st/ in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time/ thou growest:
So long as men can breathe/ or eyes can see,
So long lives this/ and this gives life to thee.
iambic pentameter (type of metric structure, which combines both stressed and unstressed syllables in groups of five)
ababcdcdefefgg
refers to the sun
dimmed by the clouds
Shade/shadow of the grim reaper or smth
So long as people will read this poem, this poem will continue living which also gives life to the poet.
BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY (1875)
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.