Mothers Sermon Illustrations

Mothers Sermon Illustrations

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Sayings About Mother

"Give our boys better mothers, and they will give those mothers better sons."—Thomas H. Nelson.
"An ounce of mother is worth a pound of clergy."—Selected.


“Are the Children All In?”

There were six boys and two girls in the family, so her life was a busy one in the home. She was just as busy at the church, teaching a class, superintending the school, and active in all the social life of the church. And through all her work there rang out an infectious laugh that chased the shadows from other lives. She is now in the glory land. But the other day her life was brought back to me afresh as I visited the home of a daughter. She was recalling with pleasure the olden days, and one thing that made a deep impression on her, and was told with evident pride, was that no matter what time of night the children came in her mother was always sitting up waiting for them. She would not go to bed until the last one was in. Sometimes the boys tried to play a joke on her by taking off their shoes and sneaking up the stairs in their stocking feet, but they would hear a voice saying, "Is that you, Bill?" or, "Is that you, Walt?" No matter how tired after a day's work, she would wait until every child was in. That waiting mother is a picture of deep concern for the children, and her unspoken thought was, "Are the children all in?" I rather imagine our generation needs a revival of motherhood like that.—Courtesy Moody Monthly.


Are All the Children in?

I think ofttimes as the night draws nigh
Of an old house on the hill,
Of a yard all wide and blossom-starred
Where the children played at will.
And when the night at last came down,
Hushing the merry din,
Mother would look around and ask,
"Are all the children in?"

'Tis many and many a year since then,
And the old house on the hill
No longer echoes to childish feet,
And the yard is still, so still.
But I see it all, as the shadows creep,
And though many the years have been
Since then, I can hear my mother ask,
"Are all the children in?"

I wonder if when the shadows fall
On the last short, earthly day,
When we say good-bye to the world outside,
All tired with our childish play,
When we step out into that Other Land
Where Mother so long has been,
Will we hear her ask, just as of old,
"Are all the children in?"—Florence Jones Hadley, The Pathfinder


No Occupation

She rises up at break of day,
And through her task she races,
She cooks the meal as best she may,
And scrubs the children's faces;
While schoolbooks, lunches, ribbons, too,
All need consideration.
And yet the census man insists
She has "no occupation."

When breakfast dishes are all done,
She bakes a pudding, maybe;
She cleans the rooms up, one by one,
With one eye watching baby;
The mending pile she then attacks,
By way of variation.
And yet the census mar, insists
She has "no occupation."

She irons for a little while,
Then presses pants for daddy;
She welcomes with a cheery smile
Returning lass and laddie.
A hearty dinner next she cooks
(No time for relaxation).
And yet the census man insists
She has "no occupation."

For lessons that the children learn,
The evening scarce is ample;
To "mother dear" they always turn
For help with each example.
In grammar and geography
She finds her relaxation.
And yet the census man insists
She has "no occupation."—Selected.


Memory of Motherhood

The heaven that lies about us in our infancy is Motherhood, and no matter how exalted or how depraved we may become, we are always attended by the grace of a mother's love. Nor does that vision splendid ever fade into the light of common day. Every great man has glorified a great mother.

In the tragedy of Calvary it is beautiful to see the Master looking down upon his mother in tenderest solicitude, telling her to comfort His best-loved disciple, and him to comfort her.

On this day let each of us honor the hallowed memory of his mother, wearing in token thereof the floral symbol of purity. Of their blessings we may have had great stores, but of that most pre­cious influence there was but one.—James Whitcomb Riley.


Thomas Carlyle's Love and Longing

When Thomas Carlyle lay dying, he was asked if there was anything he wanted. Turning his face to the wall, the granite of his Scotch heart broke up, and the old man sobbed, "I want ma mither!"—Brengle's Ancient Prophets.  


His Mother's Argument

Dr. Breckenridge once said to his mother: "Ma, I think you ruled us with too rigid a rod in our boyhood. It would have been better if you had used gentler methods!" The old lady straightened herself up, and said, "Well William, when you have raised up three such good preachers as I have, you can talk."Sunday School Times.

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