Summary: We tend to think no one can love us as much as our mothers can. However, our mothers’ love is limited and one day they will die. Only God can love us more than our mothers can and he will never forget us or die.
This is a classic Mother’s Day Calvin & Hobbes comic strip. Calvin is standing by his mother’s bed. "Hey, Mom! Wake up. I made you a Mother’s Day card." "My, how sweet of you." she says. "I did it all by myself. Go ahead & read it."
She begins to read, "I was going to buy a card with hearts of pink & red. But then I thought I’d rather spend the money on me instead. It’s awfully hard to buy things when one’s allowance is so small. So I guess you’re pretty lucky I got you anything at all. Happy Mother’s Day. There, I’ve said it. Now I’m done. So how about getting out of bed & fixing breakfast for your son." Signed, "Calvin."
"I’m deeply moved,” said his mother. "Did you notice the part about my allowance?" He asked.
Only a Mom could love a son like Calvin.
Although a mother’s love is legendary, recent news items have shaken us with the images of mothers gone terribly wrong. One mom in White Plains, NY left her two bickering daughters on the side of the road
The most horrific true crime stories are those in which a mother harms her child, instead of offering love and protection. In fact, they are so shocking, stories of mothers murdering or making their children ill, capture our attention.
“Parental hazard carries no gender distinction: Mothers kill their children with nearly the same frequency as fathers. From 1976 to 1999, 30 percent of murdered children under 5 were killed by their mothers and 31 percent by their fathers, according to the U.S. Department of Justice.”
Citation: Toufexis, Anastasia, “WHY JENNIFER GOT SICK” Time.com, Monday, Apr. 29, 1996, November 15, 2007 – cited by lisaj66 and posted on November 15, 2007 at 10:10 pm. (http://fictionway.com/2007/11/15/murdering-moms/)
Who loves you more than Mom?
A teacher was trying to teach her class a lesson about fractions. After the lesson, she tested one of the boys who was in a large family. Johnny, she said, “There are 6 people in your family. Your mom bakes a pie and she cuts it up for you, what fraction of the pie will you receive?”
Johnny, thought for a minute and said, “One-fifth.” The teacher said, “Now, remember there are 6 people in your family, how big would your piece of pie be.” And again, the boy said, “One-fifth.” The teacher said, “No, you don’t understand fractions.” And Johnny respectfully said, “You don’t understand my mom. She would have said that she didn’t want any.”
Who loves you more than Mom?
Frederick Douglass grew up as a slave in Maryland in the early nineteenth century. He escaped and became one of the century’s leading abolitionists, who fought to end slavery forever. He writes in Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave about being torn away from his mother’s love:
My mother and I were separated when I was but an infant—before I knew her as my mother. It is a common custom, in the part of Maryland from which I ran away, to part children from their mothers at a very early age. She was hired by a Mr. Stewart, who lived about 12 miles from my home.