“Youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall;
A mother’s secret hope outlives them all.”
—Oliver Wendell Holmes
When I touched the tree, the branch came off in my hand. I’d nurtured this peony from the time it was no taller than my hand. We fashioned it into a peony tree, cutting the bottom branches and supporting the top twigs. She survived a storm that split her in half, and years later, a branch that fell on her—crushing her growth. But always she endured and presented us with glorious blossoms in May. So you can understand my great disappointment when I realized she’d given her all.
A mother’s hope like the peony lies in her precious buds. She strives to nurture and protect her children to be all that they can be. She’s invested in their hearts, their education, their souls and their happiness. When they stumble, she’d rather it was her. When they excel, she’s the first to want to know, to cheer, to inspire us on to try again, to keep going and to reach greater heights. She’s the first one to teach what love really encompasses and the last to give all that she has. She would grab the lightening from the sky if she thought it would grow us in positive ways, and she’s the first to reprimand us like a thunderstorm to direct our character.
As a mother’s youth fades, we can be grateful for her blazing the path to emulate for the next season of life. As we grow into ourselves, becoming all she secretly knew we could be, we might not be exactly what she thought, but loves us anyway. Her hope for our happiness outlives everyone else. And as she fades, her love never does.
Today I returned to the peony tree to remove all the dead branches and sadly I raised the clippers to cut her down; but buried at the base was . . . , one sturdy peony start. Determined—this singular, yet determined, little tree will grow on—as will a Mother’s love and hope.
