The Poetry Corner

Mother's Way

By Abram Joseph Ryan

Oft within our little cottage, As the shadows gently fall, While the sunlight touches softly One sweet face upon the wall, Do we gather close together, And in hushed and tender tone Ask each other's full forgiveness For the wrong that each has done. Should you wonder why this custom At the ending of the day, Eye and voice would quickly answer: "It was once our mother's way." If our home be bright and cheery, If it holds a welcome true, Opening wide its door of greeting To the many -- not the few; If we share our father's bounty With the needy day by day, 'Tis because our hearts remember This was ever mother's way. Sometimes when our hands grow weary, Or our tasks seem very long; When our burdens look too heavy, And we deem the right all wrong; Then we gain a new, fresh courage, And we rise to proudly say: "Let us do our duty bravely -- This was our dear mother's way." Then we keep her memory precious, While we never cease to pray That at last, when lengthening shadows Mark the evening of our day, They may find us waiting calmly To go home our mother's way.