My mother used to clip out things from the newspaper that she
thought would interest me and pass them on. It was her way of keeping me (and
others) in her heart and mind, her practice of letting us know that she was
constantly thinking of us.
Yesterday, I cleaned up the pile of books on my bedside table
and discovered some of these clippings, along with some old magazine articles I
had saved. And one of them (probably from me, not her) was a Mother’s Day
Proclamation from Julia Ward Howe. Best remembered as the author of “Battle
Hymn of the Republic” (a song that ironically became an inspirational soldier’s
hymn), she was an abolitionist, pacifist, social activist, poet, author and
advocate of women’s rights. Born in 1819, she lived in Boston with a husband
dedicated to social reform, yet still conservative about women’s roles and rights.
She met Abraham Lincoln, Charles Dickens, Margaret Fuller and others and in
1870, published her Mother’s Day Proclamation.
A sobering statistic: Since 1776, America has been at war for 222 our of 239 years. Today is Mother's Day. This is a timely and (sadly) timeless piece:
“Arise,
then, women of this day!
Arise all
women who have hearts, whether your baptism be that of water or of fears!
Say firmly: ‘We
will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands
shall not come to us reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons
shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them
of charity, mercy and patience.
We women of
one country will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to
be trained to injure theirs.
From the
bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says, ‘Disarm,
disarm!’
The sword of
murder is not the balance of justice! Blood does not wipe out dishonor nor
violence indicate possession.
As men have
often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now
leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them
meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them
then solemnly take counsel with each other as the means whereby the great human
family can live in peace.
And each
bearing after her own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.”
Mother’s Unite! And fathers and sons and daughters. Time to say, “Enough!” and mean it.
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