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Arise, then, women of this day! Arise all women who have hearts, whether our baptism be that of water or of fears! Julia Ward Howe

5/14/2017

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Arise, then, women of this day! 
Arise all women who have hearts,
whether our baptism be that of water or of fears!

Say firmly: "We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. 
Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking
with carnage, for caresses and applause. 
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We women of one country will be too tender of those of another country 
to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. 
From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says "Disarm, Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."

Blood does not wipe our dishonor nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. 
Let them meet first, as women,
to bewail and commemorate the dead.

Let them then solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after their own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.

In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at
the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of Peace 


Julia Ward Howe 
 Boston in 1870 


Mother's Day in America was originally started as a holiday that commemorated women's public activism, not so much as a celebration of maternal love and devotion.
The idea of an annual celebration of  all Mothers was originally suggested by Julia Ward Howe, an activist, writer and poet who wrote the Battle Hymn of the Republic, “ Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. “
 Julia suggested that the second Sunday in June be celebrated as Mothers Day and should be dedicated to peace.  During the Civil War, as a protest to all the carnage in the name of justice, she delivered her famous passionate proclamation aimed towards women who had lost their sons in battle. She wrote an extraordinarily brave and progressive speech for the time, imploring all women, no matter what nationality or culture to join together for peace.
 She tirelessly held meetings every year in the name of peaceful activism, and lobbied for a national Mother’s Peace day. 

'We women of one country will be too tender of those of another country 
to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. 
From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says "Disarm, Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice!'


The earliest history of Mothers Day dates back to the ancient Romans and Greeks who dedicated spring to maternal goddesses well before Christ was born. The Greeks honored Rhea, wife of Cronus, and the Ancient Romans celebrated Cybele, the mother goddess. In Rome, the Ides of March became three days of celebration dedicated to Cybele, during which there were street dancing, masquerades and offerings in the Temple of Cybele. 
In the 1600’s in England,Christians dedicated the fourth Sunday in Lent to the Virgin Mary, Mother of Christ), and the celebration evolved to include all mothers.It became known as Mothering Sunday, 
In the United Kingdom and in other European countries, Mothering Sunday is a time when Mothers are honored by the congregation.Many churches send small bouquets of flowers home with the children for their Mothers, and special prayers are dedicated to the Virgin Mary, considered in the Catholic church to be Mother of all men. 


Anna Jarvis Reeves is generally recognized as the founders of modern day Mothers Day in US. In 1858 she started organizing Mother’s work days in West Virginia with the initial goal of improving sanitation conditions in the Appalachian communities.
During the Civil War,  she concentrated her efforts on soliciting women away from their families to care for  the wounded on both sides of the fight.  After the civil war she was active in persuading men on both sides to lay aside their hostilities.
Anna Jarvis Reeves was not herself a Mother, but as an activist and social worker she pioneered her own Mother’s idea that someday, people should honor all Mothers, living and dead, and pay homage to their Motherhood. Incensed by a trend of growing indifference and disrespect towards Mothers, Anna began her own tradition of sending Carnations to her  church in Grafton, to honor her own mother. Carnations were her mother’s favorite flower, and Anna felt that they symbolized a Mother’s pure love and devotion. She began lobbying for a dedicated Mother’s day, and eventually her tireless efforts paid off. 
In 1914, President Woodrow Wilson designated the second Sunday in May to be the official Mother’s day.


Today, we celebrate Mother’s day all over the world, although the dates are not the same in Europe, and  the etiology is quite different.
Despite the commercialism, which sadly disillusioned Anna Jarvis Reeves, Mother’s day is when we commonly honor, recognize and remember our own Mothers.
However, I would like to draw your attention again to the words of Julia Ward Howe, and encourage you to think how much power women have to change the way the world thinks and behaves.


“Arise, then, women of this day! 
Arise all women who have hearts,
whether our baptism be that of water or of fears!
In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at
the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of Peace “


May you have a wonderful Mother’s Day, enjoy your family, and feel special. May the force of Motherhood and female strength be with you, and may you focus the love and devotion towards your family and your fellow man.



To My Mother

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE
Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you--
You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you
In setting my Virginia's spirit free.
My mother—my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.


To my Mother

Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome
Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me
To her whose heart is my heart’s quiet home,
To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee
I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;
Whose service is my special dignity,
And she my loadstar while I go and come
And so because you love me, and because
I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath
Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honored name:
In you not fourscore years can dim the flame
Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws
Of time and change and mortal life and death.

Christina Rossetti



Mother o’ Mine
Rudyard Kipling, 1865 - 1936
If I were hanged on the highest hill, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
I know whose love would follow me still, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!


If I were drowned in the deepest sea, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
I know whose tears would come down to me, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!


If I were damned of body and soul, 
I know whose prayers would make me whole, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!




Rock Me to Sleep

BY ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN


Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, 
Make me a child again just for tonight! 
Mother, come back from the echoless shore, 
Take me again to your heart as of yore; 
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, 
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; 
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—      
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 


Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years! 
I am so weary of toil and of tears,—      
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—   
Take them, and give me my childhood again! 
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—    
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away; 
Weary of sowing for others to reap;—    
Rock me to sleep, mother – rock me to sleep! 


Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, 
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you! 
Many a summer the grass has grown green, 
Blossomed and faded, our faces between: 
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain, 
Long I tonight for your presence again. 
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—    
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 


Over my heart, in the days that are flown, 
No love like mother-love ever has shone; 
No other worship abides and endures,—       
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours: 
None like a mother can charm away pain 
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain. 
Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep;—      
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 


Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, 
Fall on your shoulders again as of old; 
Let it drop over my forehead tonight, 
Shading my faint eyes away from the light; 
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more 
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore; 
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—    
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 


Mother, dear mother, the years have been long 
Since I last listened your lullaby song: 
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem 
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream. 
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, 
With your light lashes just sweeping my face, 
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—      
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!


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Happy Mother"s Day to my darling, ever-loving, wonderful 90 year old Mum, who I love dearly. She has taught me to love unconditionally, and will forever be a fierce spark in my heart. I love you Mum xxx
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    Susan Golden

    Born, raised and educated in Cornwall, England., Sue moved to America in 1981.
    After many years of life experience, her first bookof poetry for social change, is published. Available on iBooks.
     https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-moon-of-compassion/id892598396?mt=11

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