When I was little, the four of us sisters shared a small room. As soon as we lay down to sleep, we could hear our mother groaning softly in the next bed.
“Oh . . . oh . . .”
My sister, who was two years older than me, and I worried that she might be seriously ill.
“Tomorrow morning when we wake up, you have to ask Mom where it hurts, okay?”
“Okay.”
But by the time we woke up, Mother had already gone out to the fields. In the end, we never asked—and as time passed, we simply forgot.
Not long ago, I visited my parents’ home. That night, I once again heard my mother groaning in bed.
“Mother, where does it hurt the most? Is it where you had the surgery? Your back? Your legs?”
She said that the place where she had surgery hurt, and everywhere else too—there was not a single part of her body that did not ache. Whenever she moved, groans escaped her lips without her even realizing it.
These days, I find myself the same. Now that I have reached the age my mother was then, I, too, groan without meaning to—on my way home after going out, while doing the dishes, folding the laundry, whether day or night. I’m surprised at myself. My life is not even as hard as my mother’s was, yet from my fingers to my back, shoulders, and legs, even when I am just sitting still, the aches and pains spread. When I groan, my son tells me not to let it get worse and to go to the hospital—but that is easier said than done.
Back then, I do not remember my mother ever once saying she was in pain. Was it because we were too young to understand? Or because she was so burdened with work that she forgot even her own suffering? Now it seems that the aches that filled her whole body had simply become part of her life. How did my mother endure all those years of pain? I suppose she bore it all for the sake of her five children. That is why her difficult life in those days keeps coming back to my mind.
I realize that the life of our Heavenly Mother, who now dwells among Her immature children on this sinful earth, must be the same. I remember the words Heavenly Father once spoke to Mother before His ascension:
“How could You endure it . . .?”
Heavenly Mother is enduring unspeakable pain because of Her sinful children. She anxiously watches over us, worrying that the weak in faith might stumble. Though She is in pain and weary, She never shows it—quietly bearing everything alone. Until now, I have been nothing but a childish child, never sharing even a small part of Her heavy burden. I only sought my own comfort, thinking only of my pain and my hardship.
From now on, I want to be a child who understands Mother’s suffering, who makes Her joy my joy and Her sorrow my sorrow. Truly, I long to grow into a mature child who can bring comfort and a smile to Mother’s face.