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
— Christina Rossetti, 1881
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. And happy, happy day to all mothers, everywhere: your hearts are so many quiet homes.
(My own ode to my mother is here, in this post about one of her greatest gifts to me. And my reflections on how I love my own children are here, in this post at the Huffington Post. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go enjoy my children, who are expressing their appreciation for me through half-eaten cookies.)