No love like a mother’s…
Very recently I was headed home with a friend when something interestingly caught my attention – a mother’s love. “It is a norm” most of us will say, in fact, it is expected and nothing should be otherwise. This is where I cut in!
A mother’s love….the type you’ll see and be moved, the type that can never be compromised. The type you will get and never want to leave, the type if you miss having, can never be replaceable. The true love… A mother’s love.
Mother goat stood across her kid, weeping – that I’m sure of – within. The kid had just been hit by a very careless, wicked driver who did not take the courtesy of probably, properly disposing the carcass. Just by the roadside, in fact, by the walkway, where no matter where you’re coming from or headed, you will definitely see it. Mother goat could not be offered condolences by me – because I didn’t understand her language, neither did she, mine. I could only show remorse as to what a human like me, though different from me in character, had done. Mother goat was with kid one, lying helplessly by the pathway while she stared bitterly, breathing profusely, looking sadly at kid two. She wasn’t seated on her four appendages, mother goat stood while everyone passed forth. I felt terrible, especially when my friend who was walking with me told me that had been the same episode since earlier that day, and this was about ten hours later. I began to think about mothers who at one time or the other had lost a child, it is devastating!
Before lights out, I had surprisingly forgotten about the occurrence, only for me to take the same route the next day and OMG, it was mother goat still in that position. This time, she had tried to cover kid one with grass, while kid two, still across the gutter was gradually decomposing, thanks to the other cars that still had the guts to go over a dead meat. What a shame! My question – “are we that insensitive and heartless?” Mother goat could have been anyone. I for one, was embarrassingly scared of goats until the scenario, which immediately called my attention to the fact that mother goat had feelings too, running through her veins, and that she was almost like us, except we were higher. My arms were covered in goose pimples; I was speechless as I hurriedly moved across to where I was headed. I’ll say it again, “aint no love like a mother’s love” even when it balls down to mother goat’s.
This goes out to every mother out there, living or not. May you be celebrated in unimaginable folds. May your angelic purpose in our lives not be cut short by untimely death. May your love for us continue to shine like the morning sun, and grow like vegetables everywhere we go. I appreciate my mother’s love towards me, God bless our mothers!
***Peace***
‘kisses always!
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