May 14 is Mother’s Day so let’s talk about our moms!

Life was much different for our mothers. What family stories did your mothers tell you of her life or your family’s early life? If you would like to share, send it to news@royalexaminer.com

Here’s an example of a story by Rosemary White, who was born in 1928 and grew up on a farm:

My Mother’s Hands
My mother had big hands for a woman. Her fingernails were big and well-shaped naturally. They were tough, and my mother was tough too, because she went through a lot in her lifetime and always kept the faith. I can remember watching her scour the pots and pans when she didn’t have what she called a “kettle scratcher,” and she’d say she needed one of those.

Every spring, those hands made a garden. When Mother couldn’t find someone to plow our garden, those hands were used to hook up the horses and run the plow. Then she would take a hoe and chop up the clods of dirt.

Mother would come to our beds in the cold winter nights, and she would have an old coat or an old blanket that she had held up to the heating stove to get it really warm, and then she would slip it under us. Then we would stop shivering from the cold.

Mother’s hands would drag up limbs from the woods and chop them up for firewood. They scrubbed clothes on the washboard after she carried water from the spring and heated it in a kettle in the summer or on the cook stove in the winter.

Mother cooked for the preacher and his family on Sundays so they wouldn’t have to drive sixty miles back home and then back again for Sunday night service. She did this joyfully every Sunday until they got moved closer to our town.