Mary, be a mother to me now

When John and I were first married, I was nervous to host his parents in our home unless we had a decent meal planned. Whenever they were coming over, I put together a company dinner and baked a homemade dessert. I knew that was what a daughter-in-law should do.

Then one day I found out they would be stopping by, and I had no time to prepare. I threw together sloppy joes and boiled up some boxed mac and cheese. I found a can of green beans in the cupboard. We had a store-bought pie in the freezer, so that would have to be dessert.

I felt a little bad, but it would have to work. I could do more the next time.

But I was way off. John’s parents were thrilled. They ate everything with genuine enthusiasm. His mother complimented me on every bite. She found as much to appreciate in my cooking as she ever did, even though the cardboard boxes and cans from our meal were sitting right there on the kitchen counter.

When I slid the pie onto the table and explained – a little apologetically – that it had come from the freezer section at the store, his mother beamed.

“You work full time and you have two little boys,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend all day getting ready for us.”

She and my father-in-law thoroughly enjoyed that pie. John’s mom was even more impressed when I confessed that it had been on sale.

“It’s out of this world,” she said with her usual warm smile.

My mother-in-law taught me something that day. I realized that I was defining hospitality too narrowly. I didn’t have to make anything from scratch to impress her. She was just happy we were together. And she was almost happier that I hadn’t put as much effort into the meal. It made it more of a casual visit. It meant we really were family.

From that time on, I relaxed more when my in-laws were coming over. Sometimes I still made a pie for dessert, but when I did, I usually waited until they arrived, and Peggy and I would sit and slice the apples together. It gave us something to do as we talked, and it created a different kind of connection. By accepting her help, I let John’s mother be less of a guest and more of a mother.

I’m so glad I learned that lesson well before she passed away in December 2020. That realization helped our friendship, and it’s one I’ve carried with me into other aspects of my life.

During the month of May, as we celebrate and talk to our Blessed Mother, I’m thinking of that lesson. Mary, too, wants to be less of a guest in our lives and more of a mother to each of us. She delights in us. She doesn’t need us to spend all day getting ready for our time together. She is happy just to sit with us and listen and help us right where we are.

“If you ever feel distressed during your day, call upon our Lady,” said St. Teresa of Kolkata. “Just say this simple prayer, ‘Mary, Mother of Jesus, please be a mother to me now.’”

By letting Mary into our lives even when they’re a little messy, we can let her be the mother Jesus knows we need. Now and at the hour of our death. 

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