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Her children arise up, and call her blessed...Proverbs 31:28


     I would like for you to meet my Mother. For as long as I can remember there have been children in my Mother's home. My brothers and sister, our cousins, neighbor kids, children she babysit for, and now her grandchildren and great grandchildren. She and my Dad took her sister's kids into their home when help was needed. Even though they could hardly feed their own kids. I remember them offering a helping hand to my girlfriend when we were in High School. But the most precious memory I have of my Mother is all the times the little ones have brought her dandelions and she made them feel like they were the first flowers she had ever received and the most beautiful ones. I felt like this song was written just for my Mother.





Words & Music by
Lyndon LaFevers & Stuart Montgomery

Handful of Weeds


Four years old with dirt on my face,
I'd been out in the yard pickin' dandelions all day.
I burst through the front door when I'd gathered enough
To give to my Mom to show her my love.
When I held out my hand, she looked down at me
She said "I've never seen flowers as beautiful as these.

She's the one who told me about Jesus.
She's the one who taught me to sing.
She deserves an armful of roses,
But she's satisfied with a handful of weeds.

Now that I'm older and out on my own,
I wish I could find more time to make it back home.
I could have done better I know in my heart
Than to scribble a note on a last minute card.
But then she calls on the phone
And the first thing she says
is "I've read this card over and over again."

She's the one who told me about Jesus.
She's the one who taught me to sing.
She deserves an armful of roses.
But she's satisfied with a handful of weeds.

She's always known what true love means
And I want her to know what she means to me.

She's more than satisfied with a handful of weeds.




                                A Mother's Love


                                                                        by Helen Steiner Rice
A Mother's love is something
that no one can explain,
It is made of deep devotion
and of sacrifice and pain,
It is endless and unselfish
and enduring come what may
For nothing can destroy it
or take that love away...
It is patient and forgiving
when all others are forsaking,
And it never fails or falters
even though the heart is breaking...
It believes beyond believing
when the world around condemns,
And it glows with all the beauty
of the rarest, brightest gems...
It is far beyond defining,
it defies all explanation
and it still remains a secret
like the mysteries of creation...
A many-splendored miracle
man cannot understand
And another wonderous evidence
of God's tender guiding hand.
Dear Lord,
I thank you for my Mother.
For it was you who knew which Mother was best for me.

Love,
Your daughter


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