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Title: Mother's Day Story (as told by Jar Jar Binks)
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Published: May 8, 2011
Author: unknown
Post Date: 2011-05-08 08:40:10 by James Deffenbach
Keywords: None
Views: 73
Comments: 2
The young moth-a set her foot on the path of life. This the long way? She asked. An' the guide say, Yes, an' the way hard. An' you-sa old before you-sa reach the end of it. But the end okiday than the beginn'in. But the young moth-a was happy, an' she would not believe that anyth'in could be okiday than these years. So she playa with her Jawas, she fed them an' batha them, an' taught them how to tie their shoes an' ride bike an' reminda them to feed the womp rat, an' do their homework an' brush their teeth. The sun shone on them, an' the young Moth-a cried, Noth'in ever be loveli-a than this. Then the nights came, an' the storms, an' the path was sometimes dark, an' the Jawas shook with fear an' cold, an' the moth-a drew them close an' covera them with her arms, an' the Jawas say, Moth-a, wee-sa no afraid, for you-sa near, an' no harm can come. An' the morn'in came, an' there was hill ahead, an' the Jawas climba an' grew weary, an' the moth-a was weary. But at all times she say to the Jawas, A little patience an' wee-sa there. So the Jawas climba, an' as they climba they learna to weath-a the storms. An' with this, she gave them strength to face the world. Year aft-a year, she showed them compassion, understand'in, hope, but most of all unconditional love. The days go on, an' the weeks an' the months an' the years, an' the moth-a grew old an' she became little an' bent. But her Jawas were tall an' strong an' walka with courage. An' the moth-a, when she lay down at night, looka up at the stars an' say, This okiday day than the last, for my Jawas have learna so much an' now pass'in these traits on to their Jawas. An' when the way became rough for her, they lifta her, an' gave her their strength, just as she had given them hers. One day they came to hill, an' beyond the hill, they could see shin'in road an' golden gates flung wide. An' moth-a say: Mee-sa have reacha the end of my journey. An' now Mee-sa know the end okiday than the beginn'in, for my Jawas can walk with dignity an' pride, with their heads held high, an' so can their Jawas aft-a them. An' the Jawas say, You-sa always walk with us, Moth-a, even when you-sa have gone through the gates. An' they stood an' watcha her as she go on alone, an' the gates closa aft-a her. An' they say: Wee-sa cannot see her, but she with us still. Moth-a like ours more than memory. She liv'in presence. Your Moth-a always with you-sa. She's the whisp-a of the leaves as you-sa walk down the street, she's the smell of certain foods you-sa rememb-a, flow-as you-sa pick an' perfume that she wore, she's the cool hand on your brow when you-sa're not feel'in well, she's your breath in the air on cold wint-a's day. She the sound of the rain that lulls you-sa to sleep, the colors of rainbow, she Spr'in morn'in. Your Moth-a lives inside your laught-a. an' she's crystalliza in every tear drop. Moth-a shows every emotion..happiness, sadness, fear, jealousy, love, hate, ang-a, helplessness, excitement, joy, sorrow an' all the while, hop'in an' pray'in you-sa only know the okiday feel'ins in life. She's the place you-sa came from, your first home, an' she's the map you-sa follow with every step you-sa take. She's your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy, but noth'in on earth can separate you-sa. Not time, not space, not even Forev-a-Sleep. ~Author Unknown~
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#1. To: James Deffenbach (#0)
That's lovely - thanks. Thank God for good mothers.
#2. To: Lod (#1)
Thank God for good mothers. You're most welcome. Amen.
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Replies to Comment # 1. That's lovely - thanks.
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