Motherhood - A Masterpiece That Never Quits

ERA II: Becoming Backbone - “Ten Cries, Ten Names” ~ Johanna’s children, 1879–1901 (letter 8)

Dear friends

I now turn to the heart of Johanna’s motherhood: ten lives carried, named, fed, mended, mourned, prayed for and why I subtitle this letter as “Ten Cries, Ten Names,” as a tribute to her vast capacity for nurture and persistence. Each name becomes a note in her long, complex song of motherhood.

Johanna,

You named each child placed into your arms from birth. They were not just born of blood and breath, but of memory, endurance, and an unspoken promise to give them what you had lost too soon.

Richard.

Your first cry of motherhood. The one who made you a mother before you had any map for it.

Elizabeth.

Strong and quiet. The one who would become my great-grandmother who learned from your hands how to carry love through hard years.

John Junior.

A namesake. A boy named for his father, but held first in the arms of his mother who already knew the cost of loving a man.

Edward.

Prematurely born, and lost too soon.

Mary.

Your middle child, named perhaps for your own mother. She was a small grace whispered into a life of chaos.

James.

The one with solemn eyes, watching the world from corners you forgot to clean.

Martha.

A little helper, like the one in Scripture who “worried about many things,” but loved wholeheartedly nonetheless.

Ellen.

Did she look like you?

Did she sleep beside you on cold nights when the chaotic world pressed too close?

Thomas.

Your wildest child who many doubted, or believed, or simply needed more of you than you had left to give.

And Lawrence.

The last.

The one who sealed your motherhood like a stitch at the end of a long seam.

Ten lives.

Ten mouths to feed.

Ten nights you rose from your sleep at the sound of crying.

Ten names whispered over scraped knees, over sickbeds, over the edge of your own exhaustion.

You mothered without margin.

You stretched what little you had and still managed to wrap each child in the steady cloak of your love.

I carry your names now, like beads in a rosary.

And I wonder was your voice hoarse from all that calling?

Or did you carry their names like music on your tongue, even in silence?

Johanna, you mothered a small army.

And through them, you gave the world more than it ever gave you.

🕯️A Reflection For You The Reader

Scripture for Contemplation:

“He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”

—Isaiah 40:11

Reflection Prompt:

Whose names do you carry ~ children, students, loved ones day in and day out?

How might you pause and honour that unseen work today?

Till tomorrow,

Lisa Raie xox