I raised my three sons fully aware of the immense spiritual responsibility I carry as a mother.
I knew that according to the Laws of Creation, the breakthrough of the spirit occurs at sexual maturity, and that until then, it was my role to prepare the ground for that breakthrough.
My children ate healthy, nourishing food; spent a great deal of time in nature and with animals; engaged in art; did not watch television (only videos I selected). But above all, they had a mother who was deeply present and attentive to the very unique needs of each of them.
(And I’m also a Moroccan mother, so of course they received plenty of hugs as well.)
I never demanded that my children respect me simply because I was their mother. Rather, I understood that it was my responsibility to honor the role of motherhood, so that their respect for me would arise naturally.
Then came adolescence, and with it — of course — all sorts of foolish things they wanted to experience with their friends.
Even so, I always knew that deep inside, they knew exactly what the right path was and where they needed to return.
The years passed, and then came the COVID pandemic and the lockdowns.
One evening, all three were sitting across from me at the dinner table, and I said to them:
“Do you remember when you were little? I showed you a white sheet of paper and asked what you would say if everyone claimed it was red.”
All three remembered that exercise — designed to develop intuition and critical thinking — and they knew where I was going.
But would they reach the Light and the Truth? The Love of God? Knowledge and a life lived according to the Laws of Creation?
That, I could not know for certain, because my children do not belong to me. They are independent souls who, from the moment of sexual maturity, choose their own path.
Still, I prayed for it often.
I prayed for them, but also for the bond between us.
Because I knew that if, heaven forbid, they did not choose to follow their spirit, we could meet only on the earthly and emotional plane, but we would not share the deep connection that can exist only at a similar frequency of spiritual consciousness.
And then, with my middle son, the moment I had been waiting for since the day he was born finally arrived.
We began reading together the very work that is the pinnacle of study at the School and is taught in depth in the Program for High Knowledge.
When we finished reading the second chapter, he looked up at me with tear-filled blue eyes and said:
“Mom, I have never read anything so elevated, so deep, so stirring, and so nourishing to the spirit as this text.”
He fell silent, then looked straight into my eyes and said seriously:
“Now I know why I chose you to be my mother.”
For this moment alone, it was worth waiting twenty-five years.
