The Love of a Mother

It was not as dark as it should have been, considering that it was somewhere around three 'o clock in the morning (give or take a few hours...). The light in my parent's bathroom was on. My entire body ached, and longed for sleep...

Wait... why was the light in the bathroom on? And why was I in the same room as my parent's bathroom? And why was I awake at three in the morning? And why did my entire body ache?

Perhaps the date will clear things up a bit: It was the night of June fifteenth, 2011.

On that day, my sister Esther entered this world.

All throughout the night, I had been continually awakened from brief snatches of sleep--by one of two noises. Either it was the soft, tired voice of my mother, or it was the cute but insistent cry of my brand new little sister.

I had to fight, sometimes, to drag myself up off the nice warm bed to go get mama a drink, or to rearrange pillows, or any number of other tasks-- both for mama and for new little Esther. (My sleepy brain attempted to protest that the baby didn't really need a diaper change...)

Of course, the real me was (is!) thrilled to have a new baby sister, and happy to serve my mama and the baby.

Tired as I was, though, I couldn't help but be amazed at something: while mama was caring for this tiny little bundle-- who was insisting noisily on being nursed right now, not letting mama sleep, and the one who, just hours before, had caused her intense pain-- she was constantly telling her what a blessing  and gift from God she was and how glad she was that she was here now, and kept asking me, "Isn't she so beautiful?!" Oh, yes, she is. Very much so.

But... to be saying that after having experienced more pain than most of us have experienced, after having gone through the whole long labor, while being kept from (desperately needed) sleep for hours??

To be caring for her tenderly and patiently, and speaking kindly to her, in spite of all the aforementioned?

This, folks, is what love is all about: being kind and patient and caring--no matter how you feel; no matter what the other person has done to you.