May 10, 2026: Mother’s Day Reflections

Sarah Barnett, Dinorah Sapp, Susan Carson

This Sunday, we learn from the wisdom of mothers in our congregation as they reflect on the joys and lessons of motherhood.

View the video archive of this service here:

Sermon Text

Mother's Day Reflection by Sarah Barnett

I am in a season of life defined by motherhood, so it makes sense that my relationship with this church has been defined by motherhood as well.

I started coming to UUCB in the fall of 2021. As the COVID pandemic dragged on, I was struggling like we all were, but I was also struggling as a new mom and as a wife with a mentally ill husband. I knew I needed community, that I wanted my son Arvo to grow up with a little cohort of friends who shared my values. And I knew I couldn’t go back to the Catholic Church of my childhood.

So I brought my toddler to Spirit Play in the woods.

At that time, religious education was held outdoors, on the other side of the parking lot, to allow for social distancing. Arvo and I wore masks and stepped over poison ivy. There was no holy water, no sign of the cross. Nothing was in Latin. Instead, I watched Christy True quietly hand Arvo bits of twigs to fidget with as he listened to the story. Mary Beth O’Brien sang the world’s catchiest song about how the earth is our body and the water is our blood. I loved it.

So we came back again, and again. Arvo’s little feet plodded around a walking labyrinth. He made a chalice out of a tiny terra cotta pot and a battery-operated tea light. It lives on his dresser still. Well, technically this is version three as the first one met its demise under the back of a rocking chair and its replacement was dropped on the sidewalk in the courtyard before we even made it to the car.

The very first UUCB service that gutted me - and there have been several since - was on Mother’s Day in May of 2022. My husband Michael - Arvo’s dad - had died by suicide three weeks earlier. I sobbed as someone sang Carole King’s song, Child of Mine:

“The times you were born in may not have been the best

But you can make the times to come better than the rest …

Oh yes, sweet darling,

So glad you are a child of mine.”

I never imagined being a widow at 37, a single mother raising a child by myself.

Over time, I realized that I am not raising Arvo by myself. I am raising him as part of this beloved community. Like many of us, I'm trying to break generational cycles of trauma and abuse. I find that path by watching the moms in this room, who parent gently, who make mistakes and find ways to repair, who believe in the inherent worth and dignity of their children.

I have had so many hard moments, moments when my kid yells at another kid outside after church or stage whispers “I just want to go home” a bit too loudly during service. Mornings when he is out of control and I can’t keep it together either, and I look around fellowship hall and hope that neither of us is being judged too harshly.

Can we be part of this community just as we are? Will you love and support and encourage this child of mine, even in his most difficult moments? Will you love and support and encourage me, even in my most difficult moments?

Because that’s the thing - even as I am raising Arvo (and now three beautiful stepchildren as well) - I am also not done growing. I am blessed to feel mothered by so many of you, and I am grateful that our minister is also a mom.

A couple of years ago for Mother's Day, I passed out stickers with the Hillary Clinton quote:

“There is no such thing as other people’s children.”

All of the world’s children - all of this community’s children - are mine. Not just Arvo and Addy, but Adrian and Beckett, Aine and Aya, Audrey and Olivia.

These children are mine and they are yours too.

Anthony and Julia, Clayton and Cora, Nola and Nolan, Silas and Sawyer.

At Mass in the Catholic Church, sometimes the priest will read a litany of saints, but for me, this is the litany of my beloveds.

Hannah and Harriet, Ingrid and Imogen, Luna and Penelope, Robin and Maya. All of our young ones, too many to list here, some whose names I don’t yet know, some waiting to be born.

I am the mom I am because of you, because of the way this community loves me and my children. There is a line in William Makepeace Thackeray’s 1848 book Vanity Fair that I first heard in the 1994 movie The Crow:

“Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of little children.”

Now, we know that as Unitarian Universalists we don’t all believe in God, but I can’t help but believe that motherhood is sacred.

Mother's Day Reflection by Dinorah Sapp

“No le abras a nadie, ‘orita vengo.”

“Cuidado con la banqueta.”

“Si quieres ir con ese chico al cine, tienes que llevarte a tu hermano.”

These are some of the things I heard mi mama say throughout my childhood in Mexico City. Don’t open the door to anyone, I’ll be right back. Watch out for the sidewalk. If you want to go out to the movies with that boy, you have to take your brother.

Living in a big city, surrounded by dangerous things, gave my childhood some parameters. Never mind that we lived on the third floor of an apartment building, but mi mama was afraid that someone would walk all the way up and snatch her kids. Similarly, sidewalks are treacherous territory where one could fall and skin a knee or elbow. And don’t get me started on the “chaperone” business with my brother as the third wheel when I was 14. Ay ay ay!

Mi mama wanted me and my brother to be safe, to be protected, to be sheltered. This is one of the many ways she expressed her love and care. She was also very involved in our education, making sure we were doing our best and our schools and teachers were too. The running joke in both elementary and middle school was that if there was something that needed to be fixed at school, my classmates would say, “Can you tell your mom to come and talk to the principal again?” Or if a teacher was taking revenge on our class by lowering everyone’s grades on a test, we all knew that my mom would be there the next day asking for an explanation. As it often happened in Mexican households 40 years ago, I had a stay-at-home mom while dad worked all day. She was in charge of the day-to-day happenings.

All this attention felt at times oppressive and some would call it overprotective. Other times, it was a warm hug, a comfort to know someone was there for you all the time. She volunteered for field trips, to be the backstage mom and help with costumes in theater productions, to make sandwiches for the youth group at church. She drove me and my brother to piano, voice, ballet, and English classes after school.

So it was a big surprise to be discussing my departure from Mexico City to start high school at a boarding school in Kingsville, Texas, in the United States. Presbyterian PanAmerican School (a boarding school part of Presbyterian USA) was offering scholarships and since we belonged to a Presbyterian church in Mexico City, it was not only affordable, but a “safe” option for me. I was both giddy with excitement to leave home and afraid of a new language and culture. But mom said, “Esta es una buena oportunidad. El inglés va a ser muy importante en el futuro. Ve.” It’s a good opportunity. English will be very important in the future. Go.

Letting go. I was 15 years old. Letting go. Trusting this Dinorah child to step into the unknown and be ok. Letting go. Mom realized that I had somehow the wisdom and the strength to go.

My favorite podcast is hosted by a mom of 4 girls under the age of 5. She is direct, funny, and a big supporter of women’s rights.

She interviews athletes, politicians, singers, and actors. The last question she asks her guests is, “What’s the best piece of motherhood advice you have ever gotten?” I would answer that it is not a single piece of wisdom, but it’s “The Art of Holding On and Letting Go.” Preparing them to leave, however far they go; with the understanding that the lessons and the love you’ve given will be part of them. I am now the one who volunteers backstage to make costumes, drives to piano, voice, youth group. The one who will not go into the principal’s office, but will write a nice email if I have a question.

I still say, “No le abras a nadie, ‘orita vengo.” Don’t open the door to anyone, I’ll be right back.

And I say, “Ve” - “Go”

Mother's Day Reflection by Susan Carson

For me, Mother’s Day is a celebration for all people who resonate with the spirit of Mothers; to include nurture, care and empathy.

Everyone here could be sitting where I am.

However not everyone attended a Mom’s Unhinged Comedy Show ( I actually have attended 2).

I shared with Reverend Susan and our Pastoral Conversations group about possibly a new career as a comedian (which is funny in itself) so please feel free to laugh as I share.

Russell and MJ if you are here feel very welcome to lead the congregation in laughter.

I want to share a brief glimpse, which I have titled Role to Soul, of the people in my world that made me a Mother and Grandmother/Oma.

They are all wrapped in a blanket of caring love.

Layla was my first born.
She shared with me a story that she had told some friends. After teaching, I would gather up the leftover free cartons of milk (they had been refrigerated) and bring them home. I would strain them and fill up our milk jug. Layla’s friends were surprised that she had been so poor.

BTW, I was working full time teaching and still qualified for food stamps.

I went back to school and while I was studying, Layla would get her 2 younger siblings to cook with her and bring me wonderful meals and many quesadillas.

Her ease in the kitchen carried on and still does today.

Fatima was born very fast and she literally came out waving; hand and arm first.

Friendship is important to Fatima.

Friends were initially hard to make for Fatima in tri-cultural Taos, New Mexico so I got her a little pink ball to play with at recess.

Her coaches in Mirror Lake, Alaska recognized her congenial nature and selfless leadership and put her on first base in softball and as a guard in basketball.

The youngest, Anne Marie or Chooch as Fatima named her (because we looked like a train all holding hands as we crossed the street), evaded sports even at the request from Fatima to join their basketball team saying you can’t teach height. Anne Marie much preferred sleep overs. Today she has completed 4 Iron Men and over 20 marathons (she lost count) including 2 Boston Marathons.

The seeds 0f learning get planted and manifest in such amazing fashion. Need often produces fulfillment.

I helped raise 2 additional children, Nathaniel and Jessica. Nathaniel is brilliant, particularly with technology, and struggles with mental health and well-being. He lives with his biological Mom.

Jessica got a full scholarship to Vassar and is a very gifted chiropractor.

She recently called me and invited me to join her to visit a National Park (her 50th birthday present to herself was to visit all National Parks).

My Grands that have shaped me as an Oma.

Layla’s and Nick’s family members are Lincoln, Quinn, Ellis and Lee Andre.
Lincoln has a love of water, both recreationally and environmentally. He is off to university in the fall.
Quinn, asked me once if I had ever seen a micro wave as she stood in front of the microwave and gave a small wave. Very, very punny!
Ellis asked for lithium batteries for Christmas. He has gone from taking things apart to building-for example an automatic shrimp feeder and a server dedicated for his friends to play Mindcraft on.
Lee Andre’s love of soccer continues to grow. He was the first soccer hero I have ever met (one practice he wore his practice jersey as a cape).

Chauncey is Fatima and Ben’s child.
I love watching Chauncey skip home from school.
One day as we were walking home, I told him I saw lots of children playing at recess (there had been many snow days). He asked me if I saw him I said no and then he asked if I saw someone like him?

Anne Marie and Kris’s family members are Maura and Hugo.
Maura is a sport, on a softball and swim team and loving ice skating. Long Saturday mornings (Anne Marie also didn’t like to watch sports).
Hugo has an ease about him, life is indeed goodOn our special time, a few weeks ago, I asked him where he would like to go, we were having trouble making up our minds so he said we could just drive around and see what was open.

On Aging
Fatima asked me on one of our walks if it feels strange having 40 (soon Anne Marie) year old daughters. I don’t view myself as old. I look out with young eyes.

On Learning: Here are a few lessons I am practicing.
No such thing as a perfect Mother (haven’t met that person).
Working hard to listen and not ‘fix’ and be present.
Deeply listen.
Stay open.
I may not be able to understand and I do need to accept.
Learn to take clues:)
I want the very best.
Error on the side of gentleness.
Allow myself all my feelings. Cry, laugh, love, worry, enjoy, repeat.
My father used to tell me to stop and smell the roses.
Enjoy and let go of worrying.
Remember to learn, emphasis on learn and gently let go.
The moments go by really fast.
Pema Chodron says, begin again especially on ordinary days.
Love yourself.
I have realized that the whole world is my home and all are my family.