To my Mother

To me (and I am sure to a lot of you) my Mom has been a major influence in my life. My mother to me is my hero. She raised my sister and I all by herself with just $400 a month back in the mid 80's. I am still trying to figure how how she did that without going nuts! While surfing the net I found a poem called "Then which of the favors of your Lord will your deny?" It is a poem from a loving son to a mother. Unfortunately the web page where I found this did not say who the author was. If anyone knows please let me know. I thought I would share it with you all. Mom I dedicate this poem to you!

Yet how often we deny the greatest of favors that the Bestower has granted us. This favor, in the form of a woman……
A woman who carried us within her for almost a whole year of her short life in this world, bearing every hardship and discomfort to protect and nurture our frail being as the Fashioner gently prepared us to come into this worldly realm….
A woman who braved death's door, embracing pain unimaginable to even the most stalwart of warriors, that our tiny form may chance to take its first breath, open its eyes to the light of a new home, and feel her warm, soft caress, as she forgets all that she went through, to make comfortable our awakening into a new world….
A woman who had forsaken rest, slumber, and dreams for far too many nights; to rise instead, and answer the pitiful wail of a helpless creature that always new she would be there to answer its plaintive cry, even as the whole world slumbered on into the dead of the night……
A woman who bore weakness to give forth from her being, a pure and heavenly nectar to nourish our growing bodies and our thirsty souls with sustenance to define our humanity ever onward……
A woman who watered and pruned our character with all the patience and care of a master gardener turning a wild shrub into a beautiful tree…….
A woman who was always there for us, no matter how many backs were turned to us, no matter how many doors closed in our face, to give us a shoulder to cry on, an ear to heed our complaint, a comforting bosom to embrace when there was no other…….
A woman who, even after all of our blunders, all of our impudence, all of our ungrateful gestures and insolent remarks, will not hesitate to say I forgive you when no one else in the world will….
A woman who we call Mother.
If we only knew her lofty station in the sight of He whose mercy is endless, a single portion of which He showered upon the world and it manifested itself as the undying compassion of the mother to her child.
"THEN WHICH OF THE FAVORS OF YOUR LORD DO YOU DENY?"
To deny is to show ingratitude. To show ingratitude is to lose one's blessings……like sand flowing through one's fingers.
To show ingratitude to the all Merciful is to show ingratitude to the means He creates out of His endless mercy. WHAT OF THE MEANS WHICH BROUGHT US INTO THE WORLD?
If one's mother is alive, then cry out of thankfulness to Allah, go to her, sit at her feet, kiss her on the forehead, look her in the eyes and tell her how blessed you are for someone like her……
Tell her how much you love her…..

"Paradise is under the feet of the mother…."
From a loving son