“Accept this album as a memento of the ninth link of the chain of your life and may you have all  
the links of years added that God gave to man. May every link be as bright as the noon day sun, and may you do good wherever you go. May the evening of your life be cheerful and happy. This is the prayer of  your mother.” (words inscribed on the first page of a Gift Album given to my paternal great-grandmother on  her ninth birthday, in 1875, by her mother. )  


From one generation to the next, a mother’s prayer for her children may change in phraseology,  
but the content remains basically the same. We want our children to live happy lives, and we want them to  
“do good” as they journey through this life.Not only are a mother’s hopes and dreams for her children passed down from one generation to the next, many of her personal characteristic -- virtues and non-virtues -- are handed down as well. Whether verbalized or not, I imagine most mothers hope their virtues will be adopted and built upon by their children. Likewise, most mothers yearn for her “non-virtues” to be extinguished before transmission to yet another generation.  

My mother is one of the most generous, thoughtful, caring, and giving individuals I've ever known. 
Characterized by a genuine smile, friendly manner, ability to laugh at her “kaplops,” and gracious hospitality,  her “talk and walk” are those of a Southern lady. She is a lady of great faith, and her faith is actively demonstrated through her interaction with others.  

Since early childhood, I have memories of my mother doing special things for other people. One  
day, as I stood beside my mother in a grocery store check-out line, we overheard a conversation about the  
cashier’s young child undergoing surgery which the child’s family could not afford. Though my mother didn't know the cashier, by the time we got to the front of the line, my mother had a check written to help with the child’s medical expenses. This is one of many examples I remember about my mother reaching out to others in need. When her heart is touched, she responds. Her heart is touched often.  

 A devoted wife and mother, my mother’s life is virtually absorbed in her family -- her husband, her  
children, her grandchildren, her aged mother. I feel that much of my mother’s individual identity has been  
suppressed over the years because of her near total absorption in the lives of those she loves. She's given so much of herself to others; however, I feel her emotional needs have often gone unmet. Yet, what she has done, she's done in love. Over the years, she has said “I love you” in a thousand differant ways to her  
family and others.  

My mother’s generosity and empathy for others is rooted in the quiet example modeled in her  
home-of-origin. After her father died, individuals came forward telling how he'd paid for medical bills they  
could not afford, insisting that no one know but the two of them. My grandfather, whose role modeling has  
had a major impact upon my life, received his example from his mother. I was recently told that my great-  
grandmother kept a little china tea pot in the family dining room of her home where money was kept for  
others in need. This was to remind her family that though they were blessed with food to eat, others were  
not so fortunate. Years later, her sons financially enabled several missionaries to go to Africa during the  
Depression years.  

I remember my grandfather speaking of his mother often, with tears usually filling his eyes at the  
mention of  “Mama.” My maternal great-grandmother’s photograph has a place of honor in the living room of my family’s home. An extraordinary lady, she was gutsy as well as deeply sensitive to the needs of  
others. Her legacy continues affecting  lives in positive ways today. Though I never had the opportunity  
to know my great-grandmother personally, just looking at the image of her determined, gentle eyes spur me on when I need extra motivation.  
  
My mother and I are as opposite as a mother and daughter could be. We have separate interests, our priorities (non-family related) in life vary, our coping styles are different. However, I attribute most virtues attributed to me as ones inherited from my mother. Our oldest daughter was named in my mother’s honor, and we are delighted that she, as well as her sister, possesses the same positive attributes which make my mother a special lady.  
    

 Children Deserve Apologies, Too  
Unfortunately, there’s a flip side to the coin. Even when, we're fortunate enough to have a few  
positive attributes to pass on to our children, there are negative ones we struggle to prevent passing on. I  
also inherited a grouping of my mother’s non-virtues: an ongoing struggle with punctuality, perfectionism,  
compulsivity, an addiction to sweets, over scheduling, night-owling (at home), the inability to talk softly and gently when I become angry ... the list goes on. I like to think the positive character traits will eventually  
negate the less positive behavioral quirks. Yet, each trait and quirk will leave an indelible mark upon my  
children-- for better or for worse.  
  
Nothing pleases me more than for someone to compliment one of my daughters about a positive  
trait, and then look at me and say, “She’s just like you.” Yet, nothing grieves me more than to see a quirk, I'm not so proud of, showing up in one of my children. It's when I see one of my negative traits reflected, in one of my children, that I often shift into the “inability to talk softly and gently” mode. It is at these times I have to remind myself, and explain to my child, that it is the reflection of myself I see that makes me  
so angry, not the child. That can be a tough admission to make at times.  

It is crucial, I believe, that we train ourselves to be in touch with our feelings, and we need to help  
our children to do likewise. If we come to grips with our own shortcomings early-on, not only are we better able to deal with them, but we role model honesty and effective coping skills for our children in the process.  In addition, we need to be honest with ourselves and our children about our personal strengths and abilities, as well as our weaknesses and inabilities. We must be aware of how we can be strengthened through our weaknesses, and weakened through our strengths.  
  
When we, as parents, succumb to a denial syndrome, rather than admitting problems and coming  
to grips with them, not only will we eventually lose self-respect for ourselves, but our child’s respect for us  
is lost as well. The child can become emotionally damaged in the process, making it difficult for him 
child to trust his innate perceptions--perceptions which are frequently valid and reliable. Later, when the child reaches adulthood and realizes  his parents are not the “perfect” parents he might have attributed them to be, the relationship suffers more than if the problem is dealt with early.  

 “Clearing the air” simply is not enough when problems arise with our chidden. Though “clearing  
the air” may serve as a temporary balm, it is a superficial remedy, a mere circumvention equivalent to a  
dentist “touching up” the X-ray of an abscessed tooth. A touch-up gives the illusion of the problem  
disappearing; yet, unless the tooth is pulled or repaired, the infection continues. A “toothache” is only cured by getting to the “root” of the problem, not by X-ray cosmetics.  

Parents expect (sometimes demand) many apologies from their children over the years. But,  
sometimes parents are the offenders oweing the child an apology, plus tangible action attempting  
rectification of wrongs committed. A parent never demonstrates greater authority in the home, or greater  
strength of character, than by admitting to his child that he or she, the parent,  is/was in error; and that  
he/she is sorry.  

If we do not admit our shortcomings and failures openly to our children when they are affected by  
them, it is inevitable that we will be painfully confronted with the very issues we avoid at some point in the  
future by our children (or, perhaps, our grandchildren). In the interim period, irreparable damage in the  
relationship may occur while we wonder, “What went wrong?” Children are often honest about issues  
parents sometimes try avoiding. It sometimes behooves us to listen to our children’s assessments of us.  
 

  What Goes Up, Always Comes Down  
Every link of my paternal great-grandmother’s life was not as “bright as the noon day sun.”  
However, from what I've been told, she did go about “doing good.” The little leather Gift Album, my  
great-great grandmother presented to my great-grandmother one-hundred and seventeen years ago, now sits in the living room of our home on top of her rosewood Melodeon, a small organ transported each Sunday from her home to her church where she played it for Sunday services. Based on the entries (made by others) in my great-grandmother’s album, she was a tribute to her mother. She, in turn, was the major inspiration in my paternal grandmother’s life; my grandmother, in turn has been a major inspiration to me and my daughters.  

The place I most often go, for the private times of communion and meditation I have with my God,  
is in the living room of my home. It's one of the few rooms, in our house, that is kept consistently clean and  
in order, and so I'm less distracted by the cleaning I need to do! While writing this article, it occurred to me  that, as I sit upon my living room sofa sending up my mother’s prayers, I sit between the photographic  
image of one great-grandmother and the cherished Gift Album of another -- two grand ladies whose  
mother’s prayers, prayers submitted over one-hundred years ago, continue being answered.  
  
As I attempt to “do good” in my mothering role, it is my prayer that I'll make a positive difference in the lives of my daughters. Perhaps, at some point in the twenty-first century, my writings will provide some inkling of inspiration for a great-great granddaughter of mine, just as writings and stories of  my great-grandmothers inspire me.  
  
Never undermine the prayer of a mother. When they go up, the answers never cease coming down. 
   

Happy May (1992), 
Maxine Pinson 
  
 
Reprinted with permission
Copyright 1992
SSD, Inc.