Doing small things with great love

I  was raised in a matriarchal home. And all around me, in my parish and in my community, I saw similar pictures of mothers who were the centre of their homes, some to a greater and others to a lesser degree. But all of them, in their particular way, ensured the stability, comfort and smooth running of their homes.

I have always taken in the words of Mother Teresa:“In this life we can do no great things, only small things with great love.” But it is only at this stage of my life that I can look back and see these words in action in the lives of these women.

We were a big family, and my mother had neither the energy nor the time to dote on us and give us individual attention all the time; but what we knew for sure was that we had a good mother. Why? Because we experienced it in the small things which she did a lot of.

We always had the most delicious meals to eat, which she made herself with creativity and lots of imagination; we were always warm enough, secure enough and entertained enough.

She was the disciplinarian. My father was a present father, always there, a refuge to turn to when mother’s orders became too much.

My mother would encourage us to be creative with our skills and our talents. Being a big family we could easily organise and perform a concert for the entire evening which we enjoyed and loved doing. And, like the Von Trapp family, we were called upon by my mom to perform to friends and family who visited us, and on a regular basis to the nuns and priests who frequented our home. Those were blissful days; small things we did, but with my mother’s great heart behind it.

I can see these words of Mother Teresa in action again when I remember my visits to the home of a fellow parishioner. She was a humble woman, in a humble home. But when you came through the front gate, you saw a colourful garden, small but well-kept. On the front stoep would be containers (coffee tins) of healthy growing plants which she still had time to plant amidst a myriad of other chores she had.

I remember seeing stacks of neatly ironed clothes on a chair in the corner of the kitchen. But when I was there, she would drop everything and spend time with me as if she had nothing else to do. She would make me a lovely cup of tea and serve it with delicious home-baked ginger biscuits, and then ask me about my family and how things were at home.

She had a husband, children, grandchildren and foster children whom she took care of, but she had the time for a descent visit with real conversation when I was there. When I left her house, I would inevitably have either a batch of biscuits or a tin with a beautiful plant to take with me. These were the small things this humble woman did with great love for others.

During this month of August, which our country dedicates to women, let us remember all the women that you and I grew up with; the women who disciplined us, who fed us, who cleaned us, who took care of us, who educated us, who shaped our conscience—the women who taught us how to do small things with great love.