Mother’s Day next sunday
Next Sunday is Mother’s Day
Like every year, I think back to my childhood in the 1960s. Weeks before, at school or kindergarten, people would eagerly paint, do handicrafts or make a handicraft for their mother and proudly wrap it up to present the gifts on Mother’s Day. I had crocheted a potholder in handicraft class, using all my non-existent talent. The plan was to make a square shape, but the result was more like a triangle, which even stood still when placed on the tabletop. The reason for this was the fixed stitches and chopstitches, which were lashed down with the greatest of effort.
Early on Sunday morning, I tiptoed into the kitchen, handling pots and pans as quietly as I could, trying not to wake anyone. While mother had to stay in bed and the rest of the family was not allowed to enter the dining room, I set the breakfast table quite colourfully and proudly served the burnt toast, the hard-boiled eggs and the flower coffee. I will never forget my mother’s joyful laughter when she saw the carefully wrapped pot holder. Motherly love, that’s what it is. Saying thank you to my mother, making her happy was, like most children, a weighty request for me on that Sunday.
I am of the opinion that there is no need for a fixed date. There are enough days and occasions in the year to make your mother happy. For children, this day is still significant and just like our mothers, we too look forward to it every year.
While researching my book project, I came across a poem that I find very fitting. Especially the last four lines.
Homesickness (freely translated)
How I wish I were a child again,
Light as a feather in my satchel
I’d be where other children are
and dance to songs.
I’d like to hear the whirligig humming,
I’d pull my doll’s pram
Listening happily to the bee buzz,
I’d see the marsh marigold in bloom.
I would spin such dreams
Of alder dance and silver moon.
Climbing high up on the castle battlements,
Where my favourite fairy tale dwells.
It would be nice to come home again
And mother would be standing in the doorway.
She would have taken me in her arms,
Happiness, comfort and warmth she would be to me. (Angelika Donant)
With this in mind, I wish all mothers and children an all-round wonderful day!
Text and Fotos: Gabriela Zander-Schneider