FICTIONAL MOTHERS IN HISTORIC NOVELS

By: Celia Yeary

 

      Many western historic novels or novellas feature a mother, and sometimes the mother plays a major role. If the story concerns a family structure, we usually meet the mother, or at least know she's around. Mothers shape our lives, one way or another.
      Mother's Day probably evokes more memories and emotions than any other time of the year. If our mothers are living, we send cards and gifts, or at least a long phone call to say hello. If our mothers are deceased, and we have good memories, then we think about her in positive ways. Some of you may live in the same town as your mother, so creating a nice day for her would be easy.
      My mother ruled the house because Daddy worked out of town during the week for many years while we were growing up. Thankfully, though, I remember both parents with equal appreciation and love.
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In my newest release WISH FOR THE MOON, set in 1901, Annie's mother, Helen, is the first in the family to meet Max Landry, a young man who wanders from town to town with no purpose in mind. You'll learn later in the story why he is living hand-to-mouth, so to speak.

He comes upon a farm with a house that sits back off the road in a big clump of trees. The plowed fields fill the huge area behind the house. He knocks on the door and asks for a job, just enough to have one meal. The mother of the home tells him to walk around to the back porch, and "she'd hand a plate out to him." She does, and the plate is filled with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, collard greens, with cornbread and butter.
~~*~~*~~
Max nodded and replaced his hat. Walking slowly off the porch and around the house, he tried to walk straight and tall, but he was exhausted and hungry, and loose-limbed, because he didn’t have much on his bones holding him together anymore. The boots he wore were the only halfway decent things he owned, but even those looked like they’d seen better days.

A rose garden caught his attention, so he stopped for just a moment to gaze at the pretty sight there by the side of the house. The rose bushes grew about six in each of four rows, with a path trod down between all the blooming plants. The dirt, packed and cleaned, looked like someone had taken a broom and swept it smooth, cleared of dead leaves and fallen petals.

Before he passed by the colorful flowers, he bent down and sniffed one big red rose. He closed his eyes and swayed a little, emotion almost choking him. Roses always reminded him of his sweet mother and home. All gone now, but his memories remained.

~~*~~*~~

While Annie and her brother Clifford are in the mining town one county over, their older brother Kyle rides there to summon them home. Their mother is dying.

Annie had known within her heart that her precious mama would leave them and go to Heaven. What would she do without her? Everything, that’s what. She would have to step into her mama’s shoes. She couldn’t even pray about it; she knew what to do.

Her father, Grover, waited on the porch when they arrived. The reunion had been tearful and heartbreaking. Annie had cried enough tears to last a lifetime. Even Kyle and Clifford sobbed like babies as they knelt beside their mama’s bed.

~~*~~*~~

For eight days, Annie rarely left the bedside of the dying woman. Once or twice a day, Helen would open her eyes and look around, bewildered and confused. On the seventh day, she uttered two words. “Home. Love.”
Annie knew in that moment that her mama would go home to Jesus very, very soon. She would not leave her mama’s side.
~~*~~*~~
I always think and pray for a friend or church member who loses a mother. As adults, we expect her to die first, so you might think we'd prepare ourselves better emotionally. But it hurts, doesn't it, to lose the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone.

I found this poem long ago and saved it. I send it to a person who has lost a mother, if I'm sure that person loved and appreciated her.
(Note: I do know and recognize that some are not as lucky as others in having a wonderful mother.)

 "THE WATCHER"

She always leaned to watch for us,
Anxious if we were late,
In winter by the window,
In summer by the gate.

And though we mocked her tenderly,
Who had such foolish care,
The long way home would seem more safe,
Because she waited there.

Her thoughts were all so full of us,
She never could forget!
And so I think that where she is,
She must be watching yet.

Waiting till we come home to her,
Anxious if we are late--
Watching from Heaven's window,
Leaning from Heaven's gate.

~*~ Margaret Widdemer~*~
From Cross Currents 1921
~*~*~*~
Thanks to Prairie Rose Publications for publishing this story.

 



WISH FOR THE MOON

BLURB: At the dawn of the Twentieth Century, sixteen-year-old Annie McGinnis wishes for a chance to see more of the world, since all she’s ever known is the family farm in North Texas. A mysterious visitor arrives who will change not only her life, but her family’s as well. To save Max Landry from a bogus charge, she follows him and the Texas Rangers back to the coal-mining town one county over where a murder occurred. The short journey sets Annie on a path of discovery—new horizons, an inner strength, and quite possibly…love.   



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Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas