A Mother’s Prayer for Her Child

If we could eavesdrop on the personal prayer of a typical mother, this is what we’d hear:

Father in Heaven, I know that I’m not perfect. I know that there are many things that I need to atone for. I oftentimes wonder if I’m worthy at all of speaking to You like I do all the time. But the great wise men of our people say that You always listen. Not only that, but they say that I must speak to You every day in my own words. So worthy or not, here I am, a simple ordinary wife and mother who tries her best to do the right thing, especially when it comes to her husband and children. Loving Father, I have one request today – bless my child. He’s so dear to me, and only You know what I would sacrifice for him.

Dearest Father, You know how happy I was to become pregnant. The joyous anticipation of motherhood is what gave me the power to withstand days, weeks, and months of terrible morning sickness that seemed like it would never end. No matter how much mouthwash I gargled, I always had a foul taste in my mouth. I looked in the mirror and felt ugly. My mind – or the hormones – played all types of games in my head, so much so that my mood changes were alarming. Add the varicose veins, the craters in my teeth from all the calcium that was sucked out of me and the pains in my legs and lower back, and it’s all nothing compared to the difficult birth I had and the hours of labor, where each contraction felt like I was being slaughtered. Yet, as soon as I heard the first cry of my child, and as soon as the nurse cleansed him and put him in my bosom, the love and joy of becoming a mother overcame the pain of  pregnancy and childbirth a hundred fold.

Dearest Father, with that in mind, can You imagine how I felt when the pediatrician told me that my son, now two years old, had a heart murmur. My own heart felt like it was shattering. I envisioned a cripple that would never be able to run and play with the other children. You remember the sleepless nights when I poured my heart out to You for hours on end. And in Your infinite mercy, You did something – by age four, the heart murmur disappeared.

You remember how my heart ached when I put him on the school bus for the first time. The bus drove off, and I felt like my five-year old, swallowed up inside that big yellow vehicle, was like my own little Jonah in the bowels of whale on four wheels. What’s going to be with him? Who’ll help him get on the right bus after school? Will the safety patrol be responsible enough to help him get across the street safely? Will he succeed in school? Will he love learning? Will his teacher be caring and compassionate? Dozens of questions and concerns raced through my heart all day long. An eternity transpired until he walked in the door that same afternoon; that was one of the longest days in my life.

Was he happy when he made the football team! Beloved Father, You helped him grow up so strong and handsome. Not only did he get A’s in chemistry and trigonometry, but he became the captain of the track team. My husband and I were so very proud! My little baby with the heart murmur was now a young man with bulging calves and quadriceps winning medals running the 440. Hashem, only You know how I nearly fainted when he pulled a hamstring in the State semi-finals. He and his father were crying about his losing the race; I cried in fear and concern about the pain he was going through with a torn muscle in his leg. And You remember the horror movies in my head that maybe he’ll never walk again; only You understand the type of scary films that are featured in a loving mother’s imagination…

My heart skipped a beat when I went to the mailbox and saw the draft notice from the army, addressed to my son. My baby, he was only 17 then!

I thought his getting on that school bus at age five for the first day was the most difficult day of my life; it was nothing compared to the hot tears of distress, love, and concern I had watching him pack his bag and getting on the bus to induction camp for his first day in the military…

Loving G-d, he never told me where he was serving. Then, one day, he came home on furlough wearing a red beret and paratrooper’s wings. What!?! He jumped out of an airplane!?! Not once, but seven times to earn those wings!!! The way I prayed for him when he was a toddler with a heart murmur was nothing compared to the way I was praying for him day and night. Life for me became one long Yom Kippur, except for the Shabbat once a month when I’d have a major respite of relief and joy to see him eat my fresh-baked challot that he always loved so much. Only You know how many tears and prayers for his welfare and safety were mixed in the dough.

Then the world stopped; the war broke out. I didn’t hear a word from my son; I only knew from bits and pieces that the paratroopers were on the front lines and there were casualties. Can anyone even fathom what it’s like to be a soldier’s Mom?

And then he came home in one piece. Merciful Father, there weren’t enough words of praise and thanks in Webster’s Dictionary, so I invented the words. If I would have bottled the tears of joy, there wouldn’t be enough room in Coca Cola’s warehouse…

And then he got his honorable discharge. So I started praying for his success in his engineering studies; and that he’d get a wife with a good heart. Loving Father, I think my prayers for his marital bliss were more fervent than the ones I prayed when he was in the army…

And You alone know that I’m still praying for that boy. I love him so much! Dearest G-d, let him have a good marriage, healthy children, inner peace and fulfillment. Please, I beg You, answer all his heart’s wishes for the very best always. Thank You from the bottom of my Jewish mother’s heart.

* * *

Did you ever stop to think about how much your mother loves you and cares about you, from way before you were born?

Isn’t time to put our concern for ourselves aside for a moment, and to think about everything Mom has done for us?

There’s no time like now to pick up the phone to Mom. Tell her how much you love and appreciate her. Try to think about what she’s done for you and how she feels about you, whether or not she knows how to express herself. Tell her, “Thank you.” She’ll be so happy and so will Hashem.