May 10, 2026
“The Mother Plant” by LKV Walsh
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A few weeks ago, we started working our new garden, and as I peeked into the food composter to see if there was anything ready to be turned into the dirt, I found something unexpected. There towering over the coffee grounds and the tea bags were stems and leaves clamoring for the sky. I reached in and gently tugged at the bright green, sturdy stems, and up came a potato I had tossed in a few weeks before. It was, funny enough, an Irish white. That is a kind of potato here (you can’t make this stuff up). Immediately, I knew that this volunteer would be the first thing we planted into the just-turned beds. This plant would be “The Mother.”
I am not normally sappy about mothers or mothering. I spent most of my life as a motherless child. This fact most often protects me from the romantic notions media can attach to the concept of “mother.” I know that being good at mothering (or even wanting to mother) is not automatic, I know that mothering can be difficult and painful, and I know that mothering is sometimes a thankless job. So when I called this plant “mother,” it was not because I saw it as more special than all the other plants, but because it was trying so hard to bravely make a way out of the muck in which it had accidentally ended up. Because being the Mother is not necessarily about who or what we are, but about what we are trying to get done.
This Mother’s Day – also called Mothering Sunday in some parts – I am struck by how mothering can be simply trying hard no matter what. How often I feel the world would be healthier and more whole if each of us tried to diligently make a way out of the muck in which we (usually accidentally) find ourselves! What hope is available in our continuing to grow even when the conditions are less than ideal! And what freedom there is in seeing mothering as something each of us is meant to be doing no matter what our circumstances or stories.
So happy Mother’s Day to all of you – each and every one of you – who have loved when it wasn’t wise and continued to grow when it wasn’t easy. No matter your age, sex, parental status…thank you for sheltering others and thriving against all odds. Your mothering makes the world less dark and difficult to bear…and I want to grow up to be just like you.
To Walk with Saints and Scholars 
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