In the Greek language there three words for love: eros, which means romantic love, philia, which expresses intimate affection between friends or a man and woman, and agape, which is the redeeming goodwill for all humankind. But the tongue of Webster (dictionary) was tied in regards to a mother’s love and his ink ran dried in a failing attempted to try and define its limit; many have tried but have failed to find the right words to define a mother’s love for her child. A love that had known us before we have even known ourselves, and greeted us at conception; this love was our only companion during our prenatal journey toward life. And after nine months of the most intimate bonding and sharing, the mother’s arms became the first step of a child’s postnatal journey in life. To the world, her arms are as normal as any other but to the child who is being comforted by their touch, her arms are the world. A mother’s first communication with her child was not done with the language of the tongue nor one that is written with ink; her first communication with her child came from the language of touch. And though the child does not comprehend the lovable words coming from his mother’s tongue, her lovable touch transcends the barriers of the child’s incomprehension and translates her love in a way that only a mother’s touch can to her child. It has been said that some people fell in love at first sight, but a mother’s love transcends the eyes and all other senses; she fell in love with a being whose face she has yet to see, whose voice she has never heard and whose name is still unknown to both her and the rest of the world. At the moment a woman found out that she had conceived, she was awakened from her reverie dream about love and was forced to come face to face with the reality of it. True love was introduced to the world the moment the first woman became a mother.
The reality of a mother’s love put all other loves into proper perspective, it exposed the flaws and the transient nature of eros, philia, and agape. And when these other loves witnessed the sacrifices and the undying loyalty that a mother has for her child, they knelt in awed and bowed their heads in the presence of the most sacred love that life had ever known. When a woman becomes a mother, she realigns her life, priorities, and happiness and merged them with that of her child. She checks up on her child’s happiness before she even reflects upon her own; this gives credence to the following saying that I had once read ” a mother is only as happy as her saddest child.” Some mothers are able to love their child within the comfort of their wealth, yet others are still able to love their child within the miseries of their poverty. And though their livelihood is on opposite ends of the spectrum, their love for their child is equally the same. A mother’s worth is immeasurable, it is the immovable foundation upon which humanity stand, which provides the perfect balance of material sustenance and the immaterial essentials of life.