Last week I received a note from my son’s first grade teacher. She was inviting me to a Mother’s Day Tea and by the way, could I write a poem for my son? Oh, man. Another Mom project, I thought. Can you say corny?
But I wrote it, wondering what the other moms would do. Would they all write something? Would they all show up? Would we be rewarded with good food at least, for our efforts?
Well. Let’s just say I cried all the way through the Mother’s Day Tea. I was so completely taken listening to the moms read to their children. And the stories that were told in verse. Wow. The mom whose first son had died and who now found healing in her second son. The mom who made the clever rhyme comparing her son to an ice cream cone. The mom who’s afraid to read aloud to the class for fear of stumbling, but found the courage to read a loving ode to her daughter in front of almost fifty people.
I’m moved by the moms in my son’s class. I am moved by the poetry in their souls. I loved this Mother’s Day celebration more than any other so far. I thank my son’s teacher, Angela Cerchio, for asking me to do corny and for giving me the chance to open my heart.