May 10, 2019
Contributed by Les Conklin
Poem by Mrs. Mattie E. Gammons
Preface
Looking for something really special for Mom? I just searched online for gift ideas and found a pendant necklace, leather cord keeper, a personalized cuff bracelet, Costa Farms Live Fiddle-Leaf Fig, a Fitbit and a Kindle Paperwhite and many more. All nice but not as special as the gift I’m suggesting.
I’m not sure that my grandchildren will relate to the importance of family dinnerware. However, I think some older folks, like me, will fondly remember the plates that appeared on special occasions. No matter your age, if it’s possible, show this poem to your Mom. It’s a different kind of gift that she is sure to appeciate.
The poem was composed by Mrs. Mattie E. Gammons and read by Miss Emma Perkins at the Red White & Blue C. E. social held at Flora Young’s home in Foster, Rhode Island in January 1895. Gammons had written the poem in December and read it as a Christmas surprise for her family. Les Conklin
An Ode to the Dishes
By Mattie Gammons
An ode to a new set of dishes
All tied up with red, white and blue.
The reason we think them so precious
They’re the gift of a mother so true.
Our mother’s gifts we cherish |
As we travel life’s journey through.
Our mothers are the pride of the nation
As well as the red, white and blue.
Who is there so faithfully as mother?
Is there anyone else half so true?
A good mother shares in our gladness
And forsakes not, if we do have the “blues.”
A mother’s love can never be measured,
From her heart it abundantly flows
All her life is given to doing
For the children as older they grow.
And I think as the children grow older
That they are prone to forget.
That mother would like to be remembered
Just show her you know she’s alive yet;
It don’t take much to please mother,
Just a smile and a word from her boy
And once in a while a warm hand clasp
Is most sure to give her real joy.
And then as the girls grow older
Remember mothers’ growing old too!
Just look around girls and help her
You can always find plenty to do.
Yes, mothers grow old and weary;
Their lives overflow with their cares
Yet they never forget, midst their trials
With their children, their hearts blood to share.
Yes! Mothers are true blue forever
So help them to live, if you can,
Remember on earth there’s no other
(Except its father—if he’s a good man.)
And tonight, use the dishes from mother
Christen them with the red white and blue
God Bless the mother who gave them!
Boys and girls to your mothers be true.
About the Poem
Fortunately, an ancestral member of my family, Flora Young (mentioned in the introduction) volunteered at the historical society in Foster, Rhode Island. Over the years, she created a scrapbook of newspaper clippings and other memorabilia. Today, the scrapbook is a valued asset of the historical society.
Flora (1866-1947) was the daughter-in-law of Searle’s B. Young, a Civil War veteran. Recently, I published an article in The Peak about Searles. I was contacted by a reader in Vermont who put me in touch with the Foster Preservation Society. That tip caused me to write a second article. The rest is history. Happy Mother’s Day. Les Conklin.
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