A goose egg, a mother, and a lesson in love

It was a sunny afternoon post-school in the 2nd grade when I had a literal run-in with a pole. The pole won, my nose turned red and swelled up, both eyes turned black, and I developed a rather large goose egg in the exact middle of my forehead.

The first dozen people to see me after that took one look at my face and exclaimed: "Wow! That looks like it hurts! Are you ok?" 

The thoughts jumbled through my dazed little blonde head in a confused 'what are they talking about...?...' sort of way. 

Until someone handed me a mirror. At which point everything became startlingly clear.  My face was a wreck. A deformed, ugly, mess.

Now it might be helpful to know, I probably could have competed for Mapleton Elementary's most reserved 2nd grader, and the thought of facing school the next morning with such a deformed face was a little more than I could bear.  How many people was I going to have to explain my newly decorated features to? *Nightmare* So the next morning I pleaded with my mother: "Please let me stay home from school today."  I thought it was a reasonable request.

She said no. And when I challenged her decision I remember her cheerfully telling me that it would be fine, and that at least I had bangs to help cover up the goose egg.

Cue internal grumbling: "Yeah right Mom, fat load of help my wispy blonde bangs will be, and they don't do anything to help my nose or either eye..."

But I went anyways. I got over it, and I can honestly say that I don't recall ever asking to skip school again for vanity's sake. 

I was thinking about this story today, and how it's a beautiful illustration for my Mother's love for me. I don't say that in a sarcastic way, I actually think back with a bit of fondness on the experience, because it's a prime demonstration of unselfish love.  My Mom is a Mom who cared more about my education than my vanity, or (on a deeper level) more about my development than my comfort... and I can think of many other instances in my life when she has demonstrated this type of love. I think it's the purest kind. It's the kind of love God has for us. The kind that allows Him to watch us wade through the shadows of pain and discomfort this life sends us because He knows we need to taste the bitter in order to appreciate the sweet. He's more interested in our potential and our growth than He is in our comfort. 

So since tomorrow is the day we officially celebrate our Mothers, and since I was thinking about this today, I just wanted to write a little tribute to my Mother, who shows me what real love is. She's the best Mom in the world, and I feel lucky to have her as mine.