#2 The Food on the Table

When eating bamboo sprouts, remember the man who planted them.  
- Chinese Proverb

Yes, I am thankful for being blessed with food for regular meals every day.

I know there are so many people out there who struggle to even feed their families or young ones a decent meal per day. Just like many the world over, I was horrified to read of the extreme poverty in Haiti (even before it was ravaged by the terrible quake, that rallied aids in its direction last year) – where the children are fed on ‘sweetened mud’ to keep their stomachs filled (as in here). We know of developing nations which are wracked with poverty woes, and/or poor distribution of already-scarce resources to those who really need it – and yet how are most of us responding to this achingly terrible privation?

Even as I spread the message of holding dear the gratitude for the food we get to every child I encounter in my line of work, I hope with all my might, that every famished soul has her/his hunger diminished with every moment that we learn of, and fight to reduce poverty, poor redistribution of resources and suffering.

I know that I have to be thankful for every plate of food (and every single sentient being who has been a part of it coming my way), which I am able to nourish myself with.

I give thanks for being blessed with my Mom’s home-cooked food in my life thus far – but that, as they say – is food for an entirely new post.

Being thankful for the food we get on the table at home rocks!

Photo from here

#1 Mothers, who rock!

 If the whole world were put into one scale, and my mother in the other, the whole world would kick the beam. – Lord Langdale (Henry Bickersteth)

We all began this grand journey from looking into her eyes, tumbling in her arms, and learning the wor(l)ds from her lips.

Perhaps, not all of us are blessed with compassionate mothers who hold us in their embrace, and teach us all we know in their native tongues, by their knees or on their laps. Even so, we all have our moments when we are touched by a selflessly-giving mortal, who thinks of our interest well before the moment arrives, and to whose arms and wise counsel we can always return to whenever in need of quiet repose.

Yes, I am thankful for my mother. For all I know, love and am. I know that none compares to her sacrifices, knowledge and love – and perhaps, to hold dear her presence, might be a good beginning.

Quite a lot of us grow up to adore our mothers silently, and perhaps, it’s time to make it known to her? Take time out to say you love her  for everything she taught, did, and lived for you.

For every birthday you celebrate, for every joy that comes your way, for being there from the beginning. They needn’t be superwomen (exalted or idolised by our expectations of them), or infallible, or ever-aggreable to our endless wants of the world even as we grow older. They just need to be – our mothers. That would suffice, really.

For Mothers, who rock!

Photos from here and here