Beanery Online Literary Magazine

May 10, 2009

Dedicated to my mother



Maryanne E. Hoffman 

Our guest writer on Birth Mother’s Day, and on the eve of Mother’s Day, is Maryanne E. Hoffman, a Western Pennsylvania writer. She dedicated her book, Older Women’s Rights, to her mother, as a result of seeing her mother mistreated in an elderly care home, and being in the position of having no power to correct the situation.

 To my Mother

      You are the inspiration for the creation of this book. I admire your unshaken perseverance and spiritual inner strength, as you endure the torturous and unjust situation you are forced to live against your will. Your beautiful spirit is the (more…)

May 11, 2008


—written by jordan, age 9

If my Mom were

—a flower she would be a sunflower, because it’s her favorite flower

—a vegetable she would be (more…)


—written by Jane

My little girl, she struggled so. Her tiny form, on a flat bed with lights glaring, had more wires and tubes than there was a child. Her skin was so thin that it was translucent.

I started weeping the first time I saw her. I was sewn together like a chopped up (more…)

January 22, 2008


—written by Beth Ann

On Christmas in 1999, my mother passed away. Sure, they left her on the support system until December 26 at about12:30pm…but she was gone on Christmas. I could feel it with my heart and with my spirit when she left this earth and then, that was it. Like a flick of light passing through me…or was it before me? Sort of like a door opening and a final wave good-bye. No, I am not new age…but I do believe that there is a spirit in each of us that must find a final resting place. It was her time to rest.

My mom was 73 when she passed and had done the best that she could with what she had been given. Or, more appropriately, made the best that she could from what she could make of what she had been given. She barely had a semester of high school but she was well read (on her own), did math in a split second and loved to write. She also had a knack for cooking. She could feed an entire family and half the neighborhood on a piece of chicken, a slice of bread, parsley and some kind of a noodles and sauce combination that she made from scratch. It might have been the same flour and water, but it never seemed like the same thing. (more…)