I Love You, Mom

Rosie stepped back from the table and smiled. Everything was ready for Mom now. Her favorite cream puffs sat on a white plate. Irene had baked them when they were all outside yesterday, and Rosie had gotten up early to help her fill them with chocolate pudding. Emma and Kyle had each made a picture, and Daniel had picked a beautiful rose to go in the middle of the table. Chad’s gift was a wooden candle holder that he had carved in the shape of a heart. It stood next to a bowl of early strawberries that Daniel had found.

But it was the card beside Mom’s plate that was Rosie’s special gift. Under the colorful butterfly she had printed “I Love You, Mom!” in her best handwriting. Inside she had written: “I hope you have a good day. I will weed your flower garden for you. I love you lots and lots!” Irene had said that Mom would like weeding better than chocolate kisses. So at the bottom Rosie had drawn a row of bright flowers. She was sure Mom would be pleased when she opened it, and she was.

“I loved your sweet card,” Mom whispered as she gave her a squeeze. “Everything was so pretty. Thank you for making it so special.”

The children looked at each other and smiled. “Well, you are really special to us,” Irene said, as she got up to clear the table.

“As sweet as a rose,” Daniel said, handing her the vase. “Just smell it, Mom.” She did look lovely as she sniffed the bright red flower. She is the best Mom in the world! Rosie thought as she skipped out the door.

It was later that week when Mom mentioned the weeding. “The rain has stopped, so it will be a good day to work in the yard,” she said as she finished braiding Rosie’s hair. “The weeds will be easier to pull when the ground is soft.”

“How long do we have to work outside?” Rosie asked, slowly. She had wanted to make a new outfit for her paper dolls. Irene had promised to help her today.

“Well, if we all work together it shouldn’t take long,” Mom said, with a smile.

“But the boys have gone with Dad to town,” Rosie said. “And Irene has to stay inside because she has a cold.” Mom wasn’t listening. She had gone to help Kyle put on his jacket. Rosie didn’t feel very happy. She dragged her feet as she followed Mom out the door.

The weedy flowerbed didn’t make Rosie feel happier. It seemed like a whole forest had grown up since last week. I should have done the dishes instead, Rosie told herself. I’ll never be able to get all the weeds out today. Why did I tell Mom I’d weed her flowers?

But staring at them didn’t make the weeds go away and Mom was working in the strawberry patch with Emma and Kyle. Rosie stepped over to the rose bush and grabbed a handful of grass.

“Ouch!” she cried, as the grass pulled loose and her hand hit the cruel rose thorns. Rosie looked at the red scratch on her wrist and bit her lip. She wouldn’t cry, but she surely felt like it.

“Why don’t you put on some gloves?” Mom said, bringing over a pair. “Do you think a hoe will help?”

Rosie shook her head. She knew she should say “thank you,” but she couldn’t. Not now, anyway.

As she bent back to work, she heard little Emma start to sing, “I’ll Be a Sunbeam.” It was one of Rosie’s favorite songs, but she didn’t want to sing it this morning. The gloves were too big and got in her way. And there were so many weeds.

“I’ll just finish this part and then take a break,” Rosie told herself. That thought cheered her up. A few more tugs and the rose bushes were free of weeds. It did look nice. Rose stood up and admired her work.

Mom wasn’t around to notice, so Rosie slipped inside. “You’ve finished weeding already?” Irene asked, looking up from her book.

“Yes. I’ve taken a break for awhile,” Rosie said. “The roses were really prickly and I got a bad scratch. What are you doing?”

“Reading about Abraham Lincoln. I have to write a report about him.”

“So you can’t work on paper dolls?” Rosie said, sadly.

“No, not until this afternoon. Why don’t you set the table for Mom? She’d like that.”

Rosie looked at the kitchen table. It was covered with a pile of laundry. “But what about the clothes? And I don’t even know what we’re having for lunch.”

Irene laughed. “Are you trying to get out of work? Fold the clothes and then ask Mom about lunch.” She looked at Rosie and said thoughtfully, “What did you say on the card you made Mom?”

“I love you, Mom,” said Rosie slowly. The card was sitting on the windowsill right above the sink.

“Well, did you mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Then are you going to prove it?” Irene asked softly. Rosie knew what she meant. Dad had talked about loving people just yesterday. You have to do your love and not just say it, and that was the real proof if you loved someone.

Rosie hung her head. Why did it have to be so hard? She did love Mom. She just didn’t feel like working. “I wish I didn’t say I would weed for her,” Rosie said aloud.

“You mean, you wish that you didn’t say you loved her,” said Irene. “The problem is that you are really just loving yourself.”

“I do love Mom!” Rosie cried, and ran from the room. After she had laid on her bed for a while, Rosie brushed the tears from her eyes and thought about what she should do.

“Dear Heavenly Father,” she said at last, shutting her eyes. “I do love Mom and I am sorry for being grouchy. Help me to obey and be happy. Help me be good. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

When she opened her eyes again, a sunbeam was shining through the window. It reminded her of the song Emma had been singing. How did the words go? In every way try to please Him. And Rosie knew what Jesus would want her to do.

It was almost lunchtime when Rosie came inside, smiling brightly. She slipped a vase from the cupboard and soon returned with a bright bouquet of fresh flowers.

“How beautiful!” Mother exclaimed when she saw it. “I didn’t know there were so many flowers blooming. Are they all from our yard?”

“Oh, yes,” Rosie said. “I didn’t take them all. I do want you to come out and see them!”

“You did a very good job,” Mom said, looking at the flower bed with a smile. “It was quite full of weeds. Thank you.”

“Thank you!” said Rosie, flinging her arms around Mom’s neck. “I’m sorry for complaining, for you are the best Mom in the world and I love you lots and lots!” And this time she knew that she meant it from her heart.