The World's First Multi-National eBook! 
Life Begins at 80...on the Internet
(Casting the Net from Au to Za)

Search the Internet
Google  

HomeIntroductionNew StoriesSubscribeRecent Stories
IndexSearchAbout UsGraypow
Guest Map

THE READING MOTHER

In last February's edition, we mentioned that Strickland Gillilan, author of The World's Shortest Poem, (FLEAS: Adam/Had 'em) had also composed a piece called The Reading Mother. We quoted these eight lines, which are repeated thousands of times throughout the English-speaking world every Mothers' Day:

I had a Mother who read me things
That wholesome life to a child's heart brings
Stories that stir with an upward touch.
Oh that every Mother were such!

You may have tangible wealth untold
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be.
I had a Mother who read to me.

One of our U.S. readers, Rosie Kolodziejczyk, of Kingsland, Georgia, has e-mailed us:

There is more to the poem than what you printed. A copy was given to me as a Mother's Day gift by my own mother, because I have always read to my children. It is one of my most prized possessions.

It was a newspaper clipping. Probably out of the Dear Abby column or something of that nature. I keep it in a small frame on the sill of my kitchen window. It helps me keep things in perspective and resist the urge to just let the kids watch t.v. before bed :-).

Here's the complete poem:

THE READING MOTHER

Strickland Gillilan

I HAD A MOTHER who read to me
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath

I had a Mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.

I had a Mother who read me tales
Of Celert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

I had a Mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings-
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such.

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be --
I had a Mother who read to me.

Copyright 2003

Eric Shackle

Story first posted September 2003

HomeIntroductionNew StoriesSubscribeRecent Stories
IndexSearchAbout UsGraypow
Guest Map

  Designed, maintained and hosted by
 
BDB Web Designs
  Accuse, Abuse or Amuse  
The Web Master