Mom

My mom is sick. She had a light stroke several weeks ago. She is now hospitalized with severe abdominal pain. They are conducting a battery of tests to find out, as Mom would say, what ails her. Please keep her in your prayers.

In the spirit of honoring her strength and influence as we pray for her speedy recovery, I share this poem I wrote several years ago for Mom on the occassion of Mother's Day. As you read the poem, it may help you to know that my mother's maiden name was Cook.

CRAB APPLE JELLY

Down by the spring
an apple tree grew
an ugly tree
and ugly fruit.

Fed by the pure waters
of the old milkhouse spring
we watched it blossom
in it we watched the birds sing.

It’s beauty has grown
through all these years
not the tree
but the master it knows

That old fruit I recall
was sour to taste
fun to put on a stick
Dad taught us to whip it away.

But the tree held magic
a friendly thing
we watched it and smelled it
the blossoms smelled sweet.

Each year as it did
it’s thing by itself
no prunning, no care
just a harvest time wish.

We climbed up it’s branches
we threw stones at it too
we picked up the drops
and plucked some of the fruit.

For what reason you say
did we ignore the tree in this way
‘cause we knew some one special
would bring hope to our sway.


We carried them home
and after a taste
a sour look on our face
we gave them away.

We gave them to the Master
a Cook, it was she
she could turn anything
in to a treat.

Alas, the old tree
it is gone now for sure
we will miss climbing its branches
we will miss tossing its fruit.

But we still enjoy the blessing
of that wonderful magic
the skills of that lady
that lady a Cook.

Crab apple jelly
so tasty and sweet
red and delicious
from that ugly old fruit.

I still have a few jars
from the Master’s kitchen
rescued last summer
from the last bit of juice.

Let us gather together
sometime real soon
and honor the Cook
who’s delights made us swoon.

I’ll bring a jar
of Crab apple jelly
you make the toast
we’ll slap on the jelly.


We’ll talk and laugh
we’ll have a great time
we’ll honor the Master
the cook sublime.

What a blessing she is
she taught us to cook
she taught us to love
and how we should look.

She taught us to care
and how we should pray
she taught us to behave
and how we should say.

I thank you Lord
everyday of my life
for the blessings I have
and the Grace that you gave.

And I thank you Lord
for the Mother I have
the cook sublime
the master cook.

On this Mother’s day
that’s why I say
Mom thank you again
for your special tune.

Your music, your piano,
your accordian too
the hope that you gave
the valuable lessons too.

This special day
I hold dear everyday
for you are our teacher
our guide and our friend.


That old tree is gone
but the memories are dear
how Your love reflects
such hope every year.

My life reflects
what’s impossible to say
how you’ve turned an ugly old fruit
into Crab Apple Jelly.