Childhood Memories of Mother

By Louis J. Sharp

Memory may play tricks with one, but of these memories there is no misconception. I am one of the fortunate people who has very fond memories of mother. We sympathize with those who cannot share these memories. All mothers are not godly! All have not loved and trained their children as they should. Admittedly, where mothers are concerned, I was richly blessed!

Some of my earliest recollections are of mother holding me closely as I pillowed my head on her breast. I recall her kissing a scratched hand while assuring me all was well. I remember her firm determination when a job was to be done, defiantly saying, “Can’t never did anything!” I can even now hear her calling in a clear soprano voice, “Louie boy, come home!” My mother was never idle. She worked willingly with her hands, providing for her family. She kept a clean house while running a corner grocery store at the same time.

My mother loved to sing, and sang as she worked. Singing was a part of our childhood, and for this, I am thankful. Singing costs nothing, but brings great dividends to those who embrace the art. My mother shared with those who were less fortunate. During the dark days of the great depression (though I didn’t know about it at the time), I remember a neighboring boy who was in the grocery store just before Christmas. As children are prone to do, I began questioning him about what he was going to get for Christmas. The fact was, he was not going to get anything. My mother knew this, and kindly cautioned me about “prying.” Then she put some candy and fruit in a sack for the lad “gratis.” As the saying goes, “She gave the store away!” Dad struggled ten years paying back his creditors, the Wholesalers.

My mother was a teacher. I recall brother Glenn Green, our preacher, saying concerning some person he had baptized, “Sister Sharp taught ____________ the truth.” She did talk the Bible to anyone who would listen and converted many. She used every opportunity to teach the lost.

As a boy, I learned much Bible at mother’s knee. When daddy had to take a night job to keep working, Virginia had married, Juanita was working at night, Harold was dating, and Bill not yet thought of, mamma and I were often alone at night. We had no radio, certainly no TV, so mamma invented games to play. One such game was quoting Scriptures after the manner of a spelling bee, I would quote one verse and she would quote another. I stretch not the truth in saying we would do this by the hour. Thus I learned God’s Word at her knees.

I am grateful for fond memories of a godly mother who loved her children to whom she gave her all – herself.

Guardian of Truth XXXV: 15, p. 488
August 15, 1991