10/07/01, 12:30 p.m. - Ok, so lunch is over. Of course. :) I read the first couple of chapters of Harry Potter 2, up to the point where Weasley's father has just gotten home, when I realized something. Mrs. Weasley - Ron's mother - is MY mother. I couldn't quite place it when I read the first book, but as I was reading about her in the kitchen, chastising her children, and yet showing unconditional love and support for them, I remembered something that happened in book 1.

Harry had never gotten a christmas present from his Aunt and Uncle - in fact, from anyone - since he went to live with them when he was a year old. Ten years later, he received one ... from Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. W., who has nothing to her name but her children, and is very poor, saw someone in need, and who needed that little extra boost, and hand-crafted a sweater for him. Now, her own children took the sweaters she knitted each year for granted. Harry, though, having never received a gift, and not even thinking he'd get one, received something made out of love and respect.

My mother does the same thing, in her own way. It's not sweaters, but quilts. She is an extraordinary craftsman, and has been offered hundreds of dollars for her quilts, but she creates each one specifically for the person receiving them, and would never think of doing it for the money. She does it because the person deserves it, and because that is her gift. Just like Mrs. Weasley and her sweaters.

Mom doesn't have much in the way of money - truth is, even if she did, it wouldn't make her happy - but she has everything that matters in the world. Her heart.

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