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1902 - 1990-This is my Mother Gladys Baxter(Hard) aged about twenty three
In the 1600's England celebrated a day called Mothering Sunday on the fourth Sunday of lent, honouring the mothers of England. The servants of the wealthy had that day off from work, and were encouraged to spend the day with their mothers. A special cake (called Mothering cake) was taken along. this was changed to another kind of cake (Simnel Cake) a very rich fruit cake. It was boiled in water then baked and finished with almond icing. Because of lent it had to he kept till Easter, which is why it is associated with Easter today.
As Christianity in the 17th century grew, the celebration was changed to the 'Mother Church', but people honoured both mother and the church bringing in the Virgin Mary and all other mothers.
In America in 1907 a Methodist minister's daughter Anna Jarvis of Philadelphia, campaigned following her own mother's death for a national mother's day, as Anna Jarvis did not think people valued or respected their mothers enough. By the next year, mother's day was celebrated in her church in Philadelphia, with the wearing of a white carnation her mother's favourite flower. By 1911 Mother's day was celebrated in almost every state in America and a national holiday was held on the 2nd Sunday in May, red carnation being a symbol of a living mother and white ones for mother's who had died replaced the original idea. Anna Jarvis who was never a mother herself, but taught in Sunday school died in 1948 aged 84 years.
The British Isles celebrates Mothering Sunday on the 4th Sunday in lent, while most of Europe follows the USA date of 2nd Sunday in May.
REMEMBRANCE
I Remember you
when the lavender is blue,
and roses in full flower
after the scent of a summer shower.
Misty mornings on the hills
first autumn bring the chills.
A sprig of holly on the table
reminisces are all but fable.
Toast on the logs so hot
all but the times I once forgot.
Past snow, and now the daffodils.
You were once a gem among the Lilies.
As I roam in the morning dew
Mother I remember, I remember you.
Joy
My mother gladys was born in Kew, Surrey (near London) 7th March 1902. She was one of eight children. They lived at Lonsdale Mews which consisted of four houses each getting larger along the row. The accommodation on the first floor and on the ground level were the stables for the horses and cabs. These buildings are still there to this day being now nine modern dwellings.
My mother's father Alfred was a cab driver, who took the ladies and gentlement of the day to the theatre and social events late into the night. Thick yellow fogs were very frequent which played on Alfred's health and eventually killed him.
Gladys attended St Luke's School not far from home and went to Sunday school three time on a Sunday. Her first job was in a trading place where they sorted out cards.
Eventually Gladys worked in a cake shop and then a dairy shop in Richmond,Surrey. until she met and married my father.
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The following verse is Anon unless you know otherwise and was part of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother's funeral.
You can shed tears that she is gone
or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back
or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her and only that she's gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
or you can do what she'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
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Reflections on a Dream
Blaze away morning light
reflections of a restless night
in my dreams I saw your smile
so I know you came awhile.
Young you were in your hat and coat
you did not seem at all remote.
Lasting images that stay forever
a bond of spirits one cannot sever.
Reassures you are never far away
Mother-we will meet another day.
Joy Gale (c) 2002
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The following poem was written by Ruth Keeler 1916-1998 and kind permission has been given by her family to include it here.
Don't turn away from the love you've been given,
sent from above by your father in heaven,
to share on earth with you fellow men,
don't...turn away.
Don't turn away from the beauty around,
the snow on the hills and the dew on the ground,
wher'er you look there is joy to be found,
don't...don't turn away.
Don't turn away from a friend who's in need,
all through your life Christ is your friend indeed,
his love will guide you and his hand will lead,
don't...don't turn away.
When the day dawns and your life's work is done,
Christ will be waiting to carry you home,
he'll whisper softly "To my Kingdom Come"
and you won't...turn away.
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Mother its so long ago
Since I saw your sweet smile,
But its in my memory
Which comes once in a while
Also in your photograph
Which sits so proud and tall
No one fails to miss it
When they come and pay a call.
I remember you in spring time
When tulips are in full bloom
So I gather some and feel
Your presence in my room.
I know some day dear mother
I shall see your smile once more
As time creeps upon me and
God closes this earthly door.
Joyce Gale 2005
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Blue Bells
Once in the woods I saw
A misty hue
So many blue bells
That I thought of you
It is spring again and
Who can tell
Whether you visit here
In the blue mist dell.
I visage you walk bare
Foot among the hue
With your toes pressed
In the carpet of blue
Are you the angel who
In the night
Turn the flowers to a
Cool mystery white
Then at dawn you weave
Once more
The blue carpet that spreads
On the woodland floor.
Sweet blue bells all around
That I still dream just the same
Dear mother as bluebell
Was once your fantasy name.
Joyce Gale 2007
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