December the fifth was my mother’s birthday, so I thought that it would be appropriate to write some special memories of her. The year of her birth always eluded me, and in trying to recall that and some other facts, I began to read Dad’s memoirs that were written after her death. I found the following statement dated December 5, 1969:

“Ah! This glorious Anniversary- I retired about 12:15 A.M. thanking God who so wonderfully blessed us all sixty-five years ago by sending into the W.E. Morgan family such a bright, sweet little daughter, Ela. This placed the town of Henry, Tenn. firmly on the map. I’m sure the quiet little town could not dream of the far-reaching effect and blessings of this, seemingly, common event. This, the first birth to the family of the principal of their High School………”

This statement was written by a lonely man who had lost his wife of forty-six years. Overtones of emotion tend to discredit the reasonableness of the statement about the far-reaching effect of her birth, but I knew the unpretentious, mature woman who gave so much for as long as she had strength. She may not have been recognized in any newspaper or magazine, but in the schools and communities in which she served, she was well known for she gave of herself generously.

Because of her selfless support, her husband was “known in the gates”. Enabled by her hard work and her willingness to forego the ownership of silver, china, crystal, and fine furniture, he gave of himself to build up and broaden the scope of schools and churches for which he worked religiously. They lived in hard times, but theirs were made even harder because of his devotion to others and she aided, if not encouraged, him in doing so.

Throughout this series of stories, I have referred to many of Mother’s talents, but the most vivid impression that she ever made on my childish heart came at the end of a long hot day of work in Uncle Lake Bates’ cotton patch. When I came home very dirty and very tired, I was presented with a pair of white and pink flowered flannel pajamas, complete with buttonholes and buttons on the front of the shirt and on the cuffs at the bottom of the long sleeves. This within itself was not unusual, for Mother was a very efficient seamstress, and I was used to her making all of our clothes. This time, however, she had not only made me a pair of pajamas, but she had also made an identical pair for my doll, Robbie Joe!

This gesture of love was the most meaningful of any that Mother ever demonstrated to me. Even in my small untrained eye for quality, I saw the labor of love that went into that small pair of pajamas for my doll. Not only was it an extravagance of material, but also of her time. The tiny band at the bottom of the sleeves, the collar, the front placket, and the tiny worked buttonholes on the small pajamas were every bit as artfully done as the ones on the larger pair!

I do not remember what I said to my mother, but I know that the surprise and joy in my heart had to have been visible to her. Perhaps she was sufficiently rewarded by my delighted response to her “gift”.

By the time that I went away to college, Mother had so many responsibilities she could not make all of our clothes, but she made two dresses for my college wardrobe that became favorites. They were made of cotton blends so that laundering was fairly easy. One was a medium blue and white checked gingham, made simple, but neat and comfortable. The other was made of red, white, and black plaid material, and it was not so simply made. It had a peplum effect on the skirt, which was trimmed with white eyelet embroidery through which black grosgrain ribbon was run. A square neckline was also trimmed in the same eyelet and ribbon, and a big full bow tied the rounded ends of the peplum in the back. It was beautiful due to the details and workmanship rather than to the quality of material, and it helped me catch the attention of a young man, named Bill Redding, as he waited in a line across the cafeteria…. and the rest of this story is still under construction.

Giving of ourselves unselfishly is one of the most effective ways of making someone feel our love. Mothers may go unrewarded and even unrecognized for the things that they do, but recognition does often come when their children grow up and have children of their own!