Why Mothers Cry

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Why Mothers Cry!

Why are you crying?" he asked his mom. "Because I'm a mother" she told
him. "I don't understand," he said. His mom just hugged him and said,
"You never will.

Later the little boy asked his father why Mother seemed to cry for no
reason. "All mothers cry for no reason" was all his dad could say.

The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why mothers
cry. So he finally put in a call to God and when God got on the phone,
the man said "God, why do mothers cry so easily."

God said, "You see son, when I made mothers they had to be special. I
made their shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world,
yet gentle enough to give comfort.

I gave them an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection
that many times come from their children.

I gave them a hardiness that allows them to keep going when everyone
else gives up, and to take care of their families through sickness and
fatigue without complaining.

I gave them the sensitivity to love their children under all
circumstances, even when their child has hurt them very badly.

This same sensitivity helps them to make a child's boo-boo feel better
and helps them share a teenager's anxieties and fears.
I gave them a tear to shed. It's theirs exclusively to use whenever it
is needed. It's their only weakness. "It's a tear for mankind".

One afternoon a man came home from work to find total mayhem
in his house. His three children were outside, still in their
pajamas playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn
all round the front yard. The door of his wife's car was open, as was
the front door to the house.

Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp
had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one
wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a cartoon
channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of
clothing. In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food
was spilled on the counter, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken
glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by
the back door.

He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles
of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she may be ill,
or that something serious had happened. He found her lounging in the
bedroom, still curled in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel.
She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went. He
looked at her bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?"

She again smiled and answered, "You know everyday when you
come home from work and ask me what in the world I did today?"

"Yes," was his incredulous reply.

She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."