Quotes About Family

I grew up in a household where everybody lived at the top of his lungs.

Actually, my mother and Alfie came for three weeks' Christmas vacation and stayed for 21 years. I guess my mother never went back because she was lonely.

We never really had any kind of a Christmas. This is one part where my memory fails me completely.

Love her as in childhood Through feeble, old and grey. For you'll never miss a mother's love Till she's buried beneath the clay.

A mother's love is a blessing No matter where you roam. Keep her while you have her, You'll miss her when she's gone.

People everywhere brag and whimper about the woes of their early years, but nothing can compare with the Irish version: the poverty; the shiftless loquacious father; the pious defeated mother moaning by the fire; pompous priests; bullying school masters; the English and the terrible things they did to us for eight hundred long years. Above all -- we were wet.

I asked my dad what afflicted meant and he said 'Sickness son, and things that don't fit.

The psychological effects of wet-nursing are usually thought pernicious by modern experts, but it must be remembered that the Romans had a much more diffuse notion of family than that in the post-Industrial Revolution West. Child-minders were a fact of life in a culture that regarded marrying for love as eccentric, even deviant, and whose kinship boundaries were constantly shifting; divorce and remarriage among aristocratic families may have reached 50 per cent.64

The six lugubrious airs that he knew, always carried him back to the time when he was a car-boy at the Big Dipper Mine in Placer County, ten years before. He remembered the years he had spent there trundling the heavy cars of ore in and out of the tunnel under the direction of his father. For thirteen days of each fortnight his father was a steady, hard-working shift-boss of the mine. Every other Sunday he became an irresponsible animal, a beast, a brute, crazy with alcohol.

instead of hanging around the yard or up in their room hating you prematurely since you won't have done anything horribly mean yet except keeping them from the darker joys

We were poor. But my mom never accepted that. She worked hard to become a residential contractor - got her master's with honors at the University of New Orleans. I used to go to every class with her. Her father was my paternal figure.

education and money. I go to church with the kids for the same reason Genie and I play our grandchildren classical music and litter the floors and chairs all over our home with open art books. Jack, age three, eats his lunch with a big Goya book propped in front of him asking for the

And when it came to how Dad sometimes treated my mother, other L'Abri workers looked the other way. They must have heard the screaming, and some must have known there was abuse. They did nothing. And to the faithful, Dad was, in the words of Christianity Today magazine, "a great oak" of Christian leadership, something they called him when he died. That the great oak abused his wife was beside the point. Even

That night, while the rest of the family had charcoal-grilled veal chops, which were my favorite Italian food and which were only served once each year when we were staying at the Pensione Biea and which Mom never made for us at home because we were missionaries and the Lord provided for our needs but not that well, I got a huge serving platter full of deep fried octopus pieces.

We're living in an acquisitive capitalist society that is fundamentally anti-family and fundamentally uncomfortable with just enjoying being human. We'd rather shop than live, acquire than love and stare into a screen than hold each other.

Perhaps Mom and Dad were right. In an infinite universe, everything must have happened at least once, someplace, sometime. So maybe there is a God who forgives, who loves, who knows. I hope so. Anything is possible in a world where a daughter forgives her father, for ignorance, for anger, for failure, and places her daughter in his arms.

I would like to be remembered as a man who had a wonderful time living life, a man who had good friends, fine family - and I don't think I could ask for anything more than that, actually.

Consequently, adoption is not a word of relationship but of position. You as a Christian are a child of God by new birth. But adoption is God's act in which you are placed in the position of an adult son (Gal. 4:1–5). Greek, Roman, and Jewish families adopted their own children. Birth made them children, but discipline and training brought them into adoption and the full stature of sonship.

An undutiful daughter will prove an unmanageable wife.

People, like charity, begins at home.

All women should know how to take care of children. Most of them will have a husband some day.

At home the boys were greeted by the aroma of fried chicken that their mother was preparing. "You're just in time," she said, smiling.

At this point, Mrs. Hardy brought the discussion to an end by setting before each boy a stack of steaming, golden-brown pancakes. Aunt Gertrude came in behind her with a block of yellow butter and a tall pitcher of maple syrup. "There are more cakes on the griddle," she said. "You need your strength.

Our parents teach us the very first things we learn. They teach us about hearts.