Mother

I am reading a book right now called An Old-Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott. I came upon this quote and really wanted to write it somewhere to have. The main character is comparing her mother, whom she talks about here, with another mother who pushed her daughter away from a hug so her (the mother's) dress wouldn't get dirty:
"She thought of another woman, whose dress never was too fine for little wet cheeks to lie against, or loving little arms to press; whose face, in spite of many lines and the gray hairs above it, was never sour or unsympathetic when children's eyes turned towards it; and whose hands never were too busy, too full or too nice to welcome and serve the little sons and daughters who freely brought their small hopes and fears, sins and sorrows, to her, who dealt out justice and mercy with such wise love."
I hope I can be this kind of mother. I guess it is okay that I don't even bother trying to do much with my hair because whenever I hold my Jordan he loves running his fingers through my hair. Come to think of it, I wouldn't want to miss out on that either. I love it when he does that! At night during our "Mama, Jordan time" when I lay down with him and ask him how his day was, he runs his fingers through my hair again as we talk or goof off. He has started giving me lots of kisses on my cheek now too. Anything is worth sacrificing for those little moments.