Just before my husband and I were married my dear Mummy gave me this poem. It was written by a certain Mrs. B. W. from Clwyd, and published in a weekly magazine that Mum used to buy - The Peoples Friend. "Here you are" said my Mum, casually, "here's some useful advice for you to think about in the future." She smiled as she cut the little piece of paper from her mag. I still have it, all yellowed and well travelled, stuck above the bread machine, on the wall of my kitchen by the small side window. Thank you Mrs. B. W. for your wise words!
Don't grumble about ironing shirts
Love the man who wears them.
Have time for those little tales
Love the child who bears them.
The washing-up piled in the sink
Means everybody's fed
Don't grumble about doing it
Thank the Lord instead.
Twenty-six years later I still find them encouraging.
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