As far back as I can remember mom wore a tattered dress
It never seemed to trouble me for I always felt I was blessed
Mom wore her tattered dress with pride at least that’s what I thought
How could I have ever known that strife and poverty had been her lot
She carried her burdens everyday
but still her face a beautiful display
Despite the worry her family might do without
Sacrifices were made we just never knew about
A missed meal or no warmth from no sweater around her arms
She would do whatever it took to make sure her children’s hearts were calm
Moms tattered dress was a symbol of the humble woman she was inside
Though her children didn’t know it there were many times she cried
No not balled up with self pity but tears of gratitude
Just to see her family happy was what brightened up her mood
The spirit of moms inner heart would always rise to meet
The challenges causing others to often end in defeat
They wore no tattered dresses their sacrifices few
I wonder if their children felt the richness that we knew
When I close my eyes and picture her that tattered dress is present
When I smile at the memory sometimes it makes me sad
To think that some will never experience the richness that we had
