I am happy to introduce you to a dear blogging lady that I met over a year ago through a letter exchange :) Dear Barbara from Cornish Cream sent me a beautiful card with flowers on it and a sweet garden quote inside. I was able to find her blog and since then I have thoroughly enjoyed reading her posts. Enjoy her touching heartfelt post today.
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Thank you, Stephanie, for allowing me to be part of your lovely blog this month.
May was a month of remembering. Mother's Day always takes me back to my early years, and I thought I would write a little about my childhood.
I am blessed to have two Mother's days to celebrate! In England we have Mothering Sunday in March, part of our church calendar, a day when we come together to give thanks for our mothers. In May comes another, Canadian, Mothers day. My sweet daughter, who lives in Vancouver, sent me a beautiful display of roses this year.
This time for me is a time to dwell on my childhood, my mother and her remarkable influence on my life. Widowed in her thirties, my mother tucked me, six years old, and my sister just a baby, under her arm and went to live with her parents. They had just retired to Cornwall, a lovely part of the West of England, and bought a large house fronting the water.
It wasn't till later that I gave a thought to how hard it must have been for mum, bringing up two little girls in a home that wasn't really her own. My father had only just taken up a University professorship, and in those days there were no huge pensions. Money didn't seem to be important and I do wonder now how she managed so well. She was a keen seamstress and we always had lovely clothes. We simply spent days on and in the water, playing about in our boats, exploring the beaches, and learning to love Nature. No television, just books.
Living with three generations could have had problems, but somehow our lives were just full of love and happiness. My Grandmother was a truly wonderful lady, full of the Lord, and such an example. She sang as she worked, which is how I know so many of the old hymns. She was a superb cook, and used all the produce from my Grandfather's garden. Her faith set my footsteps on the path to God.
My mother was artistic. She used to walk me for miles, telling me the names of the countless wild flowers. She read poetry and stories to me from the moment that I can remember, promoting my love of books. We would take our bikes and painting things, set off for a day in the countryside, ride for a while and sit to sketch. She set my footsteps on the creative road encouraging me to write, to paint and to sew. My love of gardening springs directly from her.
She was a person who made the best of all circumstances, never complaining, always having a faith that God would see us through. One of the biggest thrills for her was her relationship with my three children. She was a 'Gran' never to be forgotten. I only wish I could do half as well as she did.
So much in my life has been due to the two wonderful ladies who helped me to grow in the right way. I still miss my mum more than I can say, but her spirit is always with me.
(Taken when I was about 8 months old, with my sweet mother)
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Stop by lovely Barbara's blog