I continue to work my way through the sermons of the old Presbyterian preacher De Witt Talmage. In one volume of his collected works I came across a sweet sermon in which he lauds mothers and encourages their children—especially adult children—to give them the honor they deserve.
There is no emotion so completely unselfish as maternal affection. Conjugal love expects the return of many kindnesses and attentions. Filial love expects parental care, or is helped by the memory of past watchfulness. But the strength of a mother’s love is entirely independent of the past and the future, and is, of all emotions, the purest.
The child has done nothing in the past to earn kindness, and in the future it may grow up to maltreat its parent; but still from the mother’s heart there goes forth inconsumable affection. Abuse cannot offend it; neglect cannot chill it; time cannot efface it; death cannot destroy it. For harsh words it has gentle chiding; for the blow it has beneficent ministry; for neglect it has increasing watchfulness. It weeps at the prison door over the incarcerated prodigal, and pleads for pardon at the Governor’s feet, and is forced away
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