RICE MUSINGS

If you can take a man who truly loves you,

And honour what he stands for as your own;

If you can let him shape his children by it,

And never sneer, nor choke his quiet faith—

If you can bear his children and adore them,

Matching his devotion, bone for bone;

If you can watch him falter under illness,

Yet treat him as the man he’s always been;

If you can turn from others’ easy comforts,

And hold your vow when weaker hearts would stray—

If you can raise your children without favour,

Nor twist your love to punish or to win;

If you can keep your tongue from backroom poison,

And teach your children not to wound with spite;

If you can stomach choices you dislike,

And let them face the consequences they make—

If you can take their partners as they are,

And never smear their names in shadowed light;

If you can guide your house without a stick,

Nor rule by guilt, nor break their will with fear;

If you can lose your man to death’s cold silence,

Yet not go hunting comfort in another—

But stand upright, a model to your children,

Of loyalty that does not disappear;

If you can lay your man to rest with honour,

In ground that matches what he held as true;

Not place him where he’d never choose to slumber,

Nor force a soldier’s grave upon his name—

And if you visit often, in devotion,

To show your heart remembers all he knew;

If you can guard your children from your burdens,

And not entangle them in debts or need;

If you can set no child against another,

Nor mock them with a jealous, cutting tongue—

If you can say “I’m sorry” and mean every syllable,

And not exile one to feed your pride or greed;

Then you are more than mother in a title—

You are the standard every child deserves.