p. 13 | Where Is Mother?

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jun 11, 1914

Where Is Mother?

A LITTLE fellow came running to a neighbor's house, and there were tears in his eyes and anxiety on his face as he said:—

"Do you know where my mamma is? I came home from school and she is not at home."

A little girl met a friend on the street and said: "I want my mamma; have you seen her?"

A tiny tot stood at the window in charge of an older child, and peering out, said, "Why can't mamma come?"

"Where is mother?" shouts the big boy, as he dashes into the house. "Has she fixed that rip in my coat?"

"Where can mother be?" says the big girl who wants her blouse all buttoned up behind.

"Where is your mother, children?" asks the husband and father, as he comes in from his work and looks about.

Is it not simply wonderful how many people want mother? Is she not the most important person, the most needed person, the busiest person, in all the wide world? If she is not at home, how quickly her absence is observed! If she goes to a neighbor's just for a moment, she is surely wanted at home. If she goes out for an evening, she is probably called to the phone and told to come home quickly, because the baby is sick, or Jack has cut his finger, or Julia has the headache, or father is lonesome.

Mother has the only hands that can banish the pain, the only voice that will soothe to sleep, the only kiss that will heal the bruise, the only words that will settle the disputes. She is the only one who knows where every single thing is kept, and so she is in constant demand.

—Selected.