For Our Mother.

Whan I was a little girl (centuries ago!) I had a beloved book called 'Mary was five.' Mary was a little girl, only a little younger than me, and every day she would go into the garden and pick a small bouquet of flowers to put in a special vase her mother kept by her chair. I really longed to do the same for MY Mother but I was living in the back streets of an industrial town at the time and there were NO flowers to be picked. We only had tiny gardens and most of ours was taken up with an airaid shelter. And as food was very scarce, any spare inches of soil left was devoted to a straggle of vegetables. How I envied Mary. On my window sill over my sink I now have a small statue of our Blessed Mother and every morning I go into the garden and choose one tiny flower to put in a minute vase I have by the statue. Like Mary, every morning I pick a flower for my Mother. A longing fulfilled.