Ode to my Cleaning Lady

For years pride kept us apart.
I told myself, "Who needs you, I am a stay-at-home-mom, a homemaker, and I can do it all!"
I spent hours here and there cleaning bathrooms, dusting, mopping, etc.
As I cleaned, I patted my children's heads and sent them to their rooms to play.
For Mommy had work to do - important work, vital work, keeping our home straight & sanitary.
Hours I missed. . .
Hours of laughs and books and games. . .
Instead I worked and complained, but kept up just the same. . .

Then, after 2 children, a renovation, and another pregnancy, I broke down.
I admitted that I was tired.
I admitted that it might be nice to have a bit of help. . .
And, so I called you.
That was all it took. . .
And, now every other Wed. you come. . .
I take my children out to run errands and to eat lunch and when I return. . .
My house smells like Pine Sol, the floors smile with a beautiful shine greeting me, my bathrooms glisten, and I did nothing. . .
All I did was leave you a little check on the table - no amount could compensate you for the joy that fills my soul. . .
When I enter my clean house. . .

Have I ever told you that I thank God for you?
Every other Wed. I say a prayer of thanks for you.
May God bless you, my sweet cleaning lady.
You are trustworthy, sweet, hardworking, and never, no never, taken for granted.