Mothers are the patron of the home, whereas fathers are their very existence. But have we ever given much thought to the nature of this existence? Little is written or said about fathers, even though we understand their value in our lives.
Many narrators lecture on the topic of mothers: preachers say much about mothers and even the deities praise them. Writers and poets alike have sung the glory of mothers. They are compared to wondrous things.
But you hardly ever hear anyone talk about fathers. Those few who have described them have portrayed them as severe, violent alcoholics. There can only be two to three percent of fathers who fall into this category and yet so little has been written about good fathers. Mothers are made of an ocean of tears. Fathers are a wall of self-control.