Today is a very special and favorable day to refer to all the queens of the planet and those in the universal sky who won us the eternal game: Mothers. And send them from the depths of our souls, the most sublime and transcendent love and praise for giving us life and the cause of our existence. most divine. Wherever you are and whatever your personal situation and circumstance, go for all of our deepest and highest blessings.
It is also favorable to mention the history of its celebration. It has a far antecedent in ancient Greece in honor of Rhea, known in Greek mythology as the “mother of the gods”.
Thanks to the initiative and enthusiasm of Anna Marie Jarvis in the early 20th century, in 1907, today we celebrate the glorious Mother’s Day.
It brings to mind a clear memory of my life. Had the privilege of participating in the school festival dedicated to little mothers. It was the year 1967, in which he was in the sixth grade of primary school.
Our participation included declaring a part of the famous poem called El brindías del bohémio, the author of which is attributed to Guillermo Aguirre y Fierro, originally from San Luis Potosí.
Said participation was by an enthusiastic elementary school team of six classmates; Which were selected and prepared by our dear Professor Jess Luis Gasamons Hernández, who lives in Mazatlán today.
The part that was meant to declare the author of this column, explained Arturo, whose piece is dedicated exactly to the mother, says:
“…only one toast was missing, that of Arturo. One of pure bohemians, of noble heart and noble head; who openly declared that he only wanted to draw inspiration from suffering.
Shaken by all, he raised his glass in front of a joyful army drenched in laughter and joy; He filled them with the light of a glance, rocked his wild hair and said with an inspired accent as follows:
I toast the woman, but not the one in whom you find solace in sorrow, embers of happiness, misfortune! Not for when you kiss artificially scented curls.
I’m not toasting him, comrades, I’m sorry for not making you happy this time. Here’s to the woman, but for one, who gave me her charm and wrapped me in her kiss: for the woman who shook me in the cradle.
For the woman who taught me as a child how exquisite, deep and true affection is; For the woman who shook me in his arms, and who broke me one by one with all her heart.
for my mother! To the bohemian, old woman who thinks of tomorrow as too sweet and desired, perhaps because she dreams that my fate shows me the path by which I will soon return to her side.
To the dear and blessed old woman, for whom he gave me life, tenderness and affection with his blood; To whom was the light of my soul, and cried with joy, feeling my head in his body.
I make her toast, let her cry, let her tears wash away this deadly sorrow that kills me; Let me toast my absent mother, who is suffering and feels that my absence is a burning fire.
For the grieving old woman who is suffering and weeping and who begs Heaven to come back very soon to be with her; To my mother, bohemian, who is sweet in bitterness and on this night of my life, the star …
Bohemian fell silent; None of the utterances defied the feeling born of pain and tenderness, and it seemed that a poem of love and bitterness was floating over that atmosphere. ,
This is the end of the piece we were supposed to recite on Mother’s Day in 1967. Because today is such a special day, we dedicate this collaboration to all the mothers in the world who are still on Earth, and also to those who are in the sky caring for their babies.
Blessings today and always mom!