Mothers
It was a bit chilly this morning. I was in a queue waiting for the green
bus going down to the MTR station. Right behind me were a mother and her
daughter who looked like a primary 4 student. The girl was in her summer school
uniform of a white shirt and shorts.
As we were waiting, draughts kept blowing bringing shivers to us all.
The mother immediately took off her thin blouse exposing her shoulders to cover
the daughter. I was so touched though this might be the response of most if not
all mothers.
In the morning, the school neighbourhood abounds with love. There is a
primary school just opposite to the MTR station where I get off. Every morning
after the children have walked inside and the gates are closed, parents would
still linger peeping through the small holes of the intertwined chain-linked
fences until their children disappear beyond eyes can reach.
Mothers and these days fathers as well are so tender and prompt in
rendering themselves to their children in dire contrast to parents of our
times. This does not mean they love us less. The difference is in the lack of those
small deeds and minute acts of demonstration. They are much more subtle.
As much as parents love their children selflessly, they have to “educate”
themselves into not just giving but also considering if that love is really
felt or detested. Too much nagging is hated. Hovering round all day is loathed.
And as children grow, parents have to practise detachment. The one ultimate
principle they have to internalize is not to expect their children to
reciprocate.
Parenthood is a blessing already! So don’t expect dividend!
