essay about aged mother

The Aged Mother

By matsuo basho.

Long, long ago there lived at the foot of the mountain a poor farmer and his aged, widowed mother. They owned a bit of land which supplied them with food, and they were humble, peaceful, and happy.

Shining was governed by a despotic leader who though a warrior, had a great and cowardly shrinking from anything suggestive of failing health and strength. This caused him to send out a cruel proclamation. The entire province was given strict orders to immediately put to death all aged people. Those were barbarous days, and the custom of abandoning old people to die was not uncommon. The poor farmer loved his aged mother with tender reverence, and the order filled his heart with sorrow. But no one ever thought twice about obeying the mandate of the governor, so with many deep and hopeless sighs, the youth prepared for what at that time was considered the kindest mode of death.

Just at sundown, when his day’s work was ended, he took a quantity of unwhitened rice which was the principal food for the poor, and he cooked, dried it, and tied it in a square cloth, which he swung in a bundle around his neck along with a gourd filled with cool, sweet water. Then he lifted his helpless old mother to his back and started on his painful journey up the mountain. The road was long and steep; the narrow road was crossed and re-crossed by many paths made by the hunters and woodcutters. In some place, they lost and confues, but he gave no heed. One path or another, it mattered not. On he went, climbing blindly upward -- ever upward towards the high bare summit of what is known as Obatsuyama, the mountain of the “abandoning of the aged.”

The eyes of the old mother were not so dim but that they noted the reckless hastening from one path to another, and her loving heart grew anxious. Her son did not know the mountain’s many paths and his return might be one of danger, so she stretched forth her hand and snapping the twigs from brushes as they passed, she quietly dropped a handful every few steps of the way so that as they climbed, the narrow path behind them was dotted at frequent intervals with tiny piles of twigs. At last the summit was reached. Weary and heart sick, the youth gently released his burden and silently prepared a place of comfort as his last duty to the loved one. Gathering fallen pine needles, he made a soft cushion and tenderly lifted his old mother onto it. Hew rapped her padded coat more closely about the stooping shoulders and with tearful eyes and an aching heart he said farewell.

The trembling mother’s voice was full of unselfish love as she gave her last injunction. “Let not thine eyes be blinded, my son.” She said. “The mountain road is full of dangers. LOOK carefully and follow the path which holds the piles of twigs. They will guide you to the familiar path farther down.” The son’s surprised eyes looked back over the path, then at the poor old, shriveled hands all scratched and soiled by their work of love. His heart broke within and bowing to the ground, he cried aloud: “oh, Honorable mother, your kindness breaks my heart! I will not leave you. Together we will follow the path of twigs, and together we will die!”

Once more he shouldered his burden (how light it seemed now) and hastened down the path, through the shadows and the moonlight, to the little hut in the valley. Beneath the kitchen floor was a walled closet for food, which was covered and hidden from view. There the son hid his mother, supplying her with everything she needed, continually watching and fearing she would be discovered. Time passed, and he was beginning to feel safe when again the governor sent forth heralds bearing an unreasonable order, seemingly as a boast of his power. His demand was that his subjects should present him with a rope of ashes.

The entire province trembled with dread. The order must be obeyed yet who in all Shining could make a rope of ashes? One night, in great distress, the son whispered the news to his hidden mother. “Wait!” she said. “I will think. I will think” On the second day she told him what to do. “Make rope of twisted straw,” she said. “Then stretch it upon a row of flat stones and burn it on a windless night.” He called the people together and did as she said and when the blaze died down, there upon the stones, with every twist and fiber showing perfectly, lay a rope of ashes.

The governor was pleased at the wit of the youth and praised greatly, but he demanded to know where he had obtained his wisdom. “Alas! Alas!” cried the farmer, “the truth must be told!” and with deep bows he related his story. The governor listened and then meditated in silence. Finally he lifted his head. “Shining needs more than strength of youth,” he said gravely. “Ah, that I should have forgotten the well-known saying, “with the crown of snow, there cometh wisdom!” That very hour the cruel law was abolished, and custom drifted into as far a past that only legends remain.

Note Well: some of the arcane words that were used in the original English translation were replaced with their modern-day equivalents.

This story is featured in our collection of Short Short Stories to read when you have five minutes to spare and Short Stories for Middle School II

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Summary of “The Aged Mother” by Matsuo Bashō & Themes (The Story of the Aged Mother)

Also known as “The Story of the Aged Mother”, this is a Japanese folk tale by Matsuo Bashō. He was a Japanese writer born in 1644, who was famous for his poetry and is considered the master of the haiku. “The Aged Mother” is about the love of a mother and son in the face of a cruel order from the governor. Here’s a summary of “The Story of the Aged Mother.”

“The Aged Mother” Summary

The governor of the province, though a brave warrior, is afraid of weakness and sickness. He issues an order that all elderly people in the province are to be killed. The poor farmer loves his aged mother, but disobeying the leader’s edict is out of the question. Full of sorrow, he prepares to carry out the order in the most humane way he can.

His aged mother notices the confusing pattern of trails and worries that his descent will be dangerous. She starts snapping off twigs as they go and then drops them into little piles at intervals.

After a while, the governor issues another edict—he wants the citizens to present him with a rope of ashes. Everyone is afraid, as no one knows how to make such a thing.

Pleased, the governor wants to know how the farmer figured it out. Moved to tell the truth, the farmer relates the story of his aged mother. After some thought, the governor realizes the province needs more than the strength of youth; it also needs the wisdom of age. He abolishes the law against the elderly. Only legends of this old custom remain.

“The Story of the Aged Mother” Commentary

There are two clearly prominent themes in the story— unselfish love and the wisdom of age .

Lastly , the son is so moved by his mother’s concern for him in the face of her unjust death that he can’t go through with it. He decides to hide her in the cellar and risk his own death.

When the ruler finds out she was the one who figured it out, he realizes that strength and youth aren’t everything. This lesson is directly stated at the end of the story, and is its main theme.

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1664 Short Story

The Aged Mother is an English Haiku , Japanese Literature short story by Japanese writer Matsuo Basho . It was first published in 1664. Also known as The Story of the Aged Mother, this Japanese folktale tells the story of an unkind ruler who issues cruel orders, including one demand that all old folks are to be abandoned and left to die. Basho tells a poignant story about a mother and her son and their love for one another.

The Aged Mother by Matsuo Basho

Long, long ago there lived at the foot of the mountain a poor farmer and his aged, widowed mother. They owned a bit of land which supplied them with food, and they were humble, peaceful, and happy.

Shining was governed by a despotic leader who though a warrior, had a great and cowardly shrinking from anything suggestive of failing health and strength. This caused him to send out a cruel proclamation. The entire province was given strict orders to immediately put to death all aged people. Those were barbarous days, and the custom of abandoning old people to die was not uncommon. The poor farmer loved his aged mother with tender reverence, and the order filled his heart with sorrow. But no one ever thought twice about obeying the mandate of the governor, so with many deep and hopeless sighs, the youth prepared for what at that time was considered the kindest mode of death.

Just at sundown, when his day’s work was ended, he took a quantity of unwhitened rice which was the principal food for the poor, and he cooked, dried it, and tied it in a square cloth, which he swung in a bundle around his neck along with a gourd filled with cool, sweet water. Then he lifted his helpless old mother to his back and started on his painful journey up the mountain. The road was long and steep; the narrow road was crossed and re-crossed by many paths made by the hunters and woodcutters. In some place, they lost and confues, but he gave no heed. One path or another, it mattered not. On he went, climbing blindly upward — ever upward towards the high bare summit of what is known as Obatsuyama, the mountain of the “abandoning of the aged.”

The eyes of the old mother were not so dim but that they noted the reckless hastening from one path to another, and her loving heart grew anxious. Her son did not know the mountain’s many paths and his return might be one of danger, so she stretched forth her hand and snapping the twigs from brushes as they passed, she quietly dropped a handful every few steps of the way so that as they climbed, the narrow path behind them was dotted at frequent intervals with tiny piles of twigs. At last the summit was reached. Weary and heart sick, the youth gently released his burden and silently prepared a place of comfort as his last duty to the loved one. Gathering fallen pine needles, he made a soft cushion and tenderly lifted his old mother onto it. Hew rapped her padded coat more closely about the stooping shoulders and with tearful eyes and an aching heart he said farewell.

The trembling mother’s voice was full of unselfish love as she gave her last injunction. “Let not thine eyes be blinded, my son.” She said. “The mountain road is full of dangers. LOOK carefully and follow the path which holds the piles of twigs. They will guide you to the familiar path farther down.” The son’s surprised eyes looked back over the path, then at the poor old, shriveled hands all scratched and soiled by their work of love. His heart broke within and bowing to the ground, he cried aloud: “oh, Honorable mother, your kindness breaks my heart! I will not leave you. Together we will follow the path of twigs, and together we will die!”

Once more he shouldered his burden (how light it seemed now) and hastened down the path, through the shadows and the moonlight, to the little hut in the valley. Beneath the kitchen floor was a walled closet for food, which was covered and hidden from view. There the son hid his mother, supplying her with everything she needed, continually watching and fearing she would be discovered. Time passed, and he was beginning to feel safe when again the governor sent forth heralds bearing an unreasonable order, seemingly as a boast of his power. His demand was that his subjects should present him with a rope of ashes.

The entire province trembled with dread. The order must be obeyed yet who in all Shining could make a rope of ashes? One night, in great distress, the son whispered the news to his hidden mother. “Wait!” she said. “I will think. I will think” On the second day she told him what to do. “Make rope of twisted straw,” she said. “Then stretch it upon a row of flat stones and burn it on a windless night.” He called the people together and did as she said and when the blaze died down, there upon the stones, with every twist and fiber showing perfectly, lay a rope of ashes.

The governor was pleased at the wit of the youth and praised greatly, but he demanded to know where he had obtained his wisdom. “Alas! Alas!” cried the farmer, “the truth must be told!” and with deep bows he related his story. The governor listened and then meditated in silence. Finally he lifted his head. “Shining needs more than strength of youth,” he said gravely. “Ah, that I should have forgotten the well-known saying, “with the crown of snow, there cometh wisdom!” That very hour the cruel law was abolished, and custom drifted into as far a past that only legends remain.

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The Aged Mother by Matsuo Basho

In The Aged Mother by Matsuo Basho we have the theme of power, selfishness, honesty, forgiveness, wisdom, love and change. Narrated in the third person by an unnamed narrator it becomes clear to the reader from the beginning of the story that Basho may be exploring the theme of power. The ruler of Shining abuses his power by requesting that those in the region kill their elderly parent(s). The ruler, who is a warrior, does not see any benefit when it comes to old people. It is only at the end of the story that he becomes aware of the benefits of keeping old people alive. If anything the ruler is acting selfishly because inevitably most people will eventually be old but does not dawn on any of the people in Shining. They blindly follow the request that has been made by the ruler. That is till the farmer realizes that he cannot kill his mother or allow for her to die. He risks his own life in order to save the life of his mother. Something he knows will not please the ruler of Shining and that is why he hides his mother in his home.

Even though she knows that she is to be killed the mother cannot but help her son because she loves him. She does this by leaving twigs on the path so that the farmer will find his way down the mountain. It is also interesting that when the farmer reaches the top of the mountain with his mother he has a change of heart. This suggests to the reader that the farmer loves his mother more than he fears the ruler of Shining. He is not afraid to go against the ruler’s wishes even if it means certain death for himself and his mother. This may be significant as Basho may be suggesting that love will conquer all. That once a person is true to their family they have the ability to not only survive difficulties but to allow themselves to override the wishes of those who might be in power.

There may also be some symbolism in the story which might be important. The mountain can be seen to represent or symbolize difficulties. The farmer struggles as he is climbing the mountain and his mother by way of the twigs makes it easier on her son even though she is set to die. The fact that the ruler is a warrior suggests that he is brave. However this may not necessarily be the case. The ruler is picking on the most vulnerable in society by making a decree that old people should be killed. There is nothing brave about this and the ruler is hiding behind the power that has been given to him. If anything the ruler represents an abuse of power and how dangerous this abuse can be to others. The twigs can be seen to symbolize the mother’s selflessness. Unlike the ruler, who is acting selfishly, she is prepared to die in order for her son to not get into trouble.

The end of the story is interesting as the ruler appears to have a change of heart when he hears the farmer talking about how he made the rope of ashes. For the first and only time in the story the ruler admits to others that he has been in the wrong. That he in reality is dependent on the wisdom of the elderly. It is after all through the mother that the farmer learnt how to make the rope of ashes. It is her wisdom that has saved the day. Something that the ruler understands and more importantly accepts. The rope of ashes is significant as it acts as the impetus for change and ironically it is made by a woman who was due to be put to death. Her only crime being that she had aged. It is also by forgiving the farmer  that the reader realizes that the ruler himself has not only changed but is willing to pay tribute to those who may have been old.

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Thanks Rachell.

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Essay: The Aged Mother

A nother Mother’s Day down, the awkward ceremony survived. Loaded like a German fruitcake, you smiled wide as a freeway, wobbled under tulips, chocolates, a witty card, wished her all the happiness in the world and told all the old stories. Wasn’t it fun? Wasn’t she pleased, the ancient matriarch who, in a time so distant that it seems made up, slid you out soaked, milky, blind into the sheets? On her designated “day,” that same panting, sweating girl sat dry as a museum bone, a china plate receiving alms.

You remember her as reckless, consenting to squat to catch what you called your Feller fastball: clumsy, imperiled dame. Young mothers have the constitutions of gaming stewards, the organizational ferocity of sergeants, show an abundance of guts and style. (Didn’t she look the bee’s knees in those swishy navy blue dresses of the 1940s?) Want to go to the park, Mom? Yes. Want to watch me do a jackknife dive? Yes. Sure. Can do. Can read Tom Sawyer aloud at bedside. Can tie sneakers. Can poach an egg, hold a job, do long division, mend porcelain, ride bikes, chase dogs, go.

But these days the eyes water like a weak opinion, and the skin on her hand < feels like pie dough rolled on an enamel tabletop. (Let me give you a hand, Mom.) A Whistler pose, she is content to sit staring outward much of the time, as if on the deck of a Cunard liner, or to dip into that biography of Abigail Adams you gave her (a lady for a lady), at manageable intervals. Television interests her not, except occasionally the nature shows that PBS specializes in. Motionless before the mating eland. The memory clicks on and off. The older the anecdote, the clearer in detail. Typical of her much analyzed years, she will forget the sentence before last but in the next will come up with a name from 1923 and a Gershwin lyric that, once sung, swims her back into a world she really occupied.

In the world as it is, she seems only to have the place of a designation. The Aged Mother. Like a painting of the aged mother, or a play called The Aged Mother, or an essay in a magazine. Swathed in the shapeless dress, the indefinite hairdo, she has become something to be noticed and attended, as if she were forever on the verge of vanishing lest one remind oneself to look in on Mother. (And how’s your mother?)

Is the woman still a mother? Impertinent question. You dared not ask it on Mother’s Day pumped up with bonhomie, but now a few weeks afterward, in the cooler hours, the problem takes a tomblike shape. In terms of technical, logical definition, can a mother be a mother without doing a mother’s things? At her advanced stage of life is she supposed to function institutionally, monumentally, like mother nature, mother wit? Mother Russia: perhaps she is to be seen as Yeats’ country for old men. Mother earth: big as all outdoors. Not her, the featherweight fossil in your arms, as you help her up a step. Who, what, does she mother these days?

You could say she mothers the past, not yours alone, but a whole world gone. She superintends Coolidge, Chaplin, the Charleston. (She danced the Charleston.) Or that she mothers the future, herself the future to which you begin to resign yourself as your own eyes blear a bit and breaks in the bones take eternity to heal. There she sits in old age ahead of you, still mothering experience, if only by example. Can do.

But the fact is that the problem is not hers, it’s yours, the designation yours: the aged mother. To the person in question, she is the aged woman, the aged teacher, the aged Charleston dancer. Motherhood was merely part of a swooping, long and complicated ride that included a sizable fraction of American history, with vast tracts of Europe tossed in. She reads her category in your attentiveness, but privately she has other fish to fry. Who, what, does she mother now? Your attentiveness. Still the center of your universe, you assume that the only thing she really wanted out of life was to play catch in the park with you.

There comes a time when one learns to recognize that the people to whom one is related are not usefully defined by that relationship and are actually diminished by the act. One learns this with children first. Something said by the child offhand, an unusual gesture, an unfamiliar fact, and suddenly you recognize that the creature you cuddled seemingly a moment ago has been off on a life of its own. It achieved its education elsewhere. It has some weird ideas about social justice. The transformation is alarming. The favorite son, the my-little-girl is a stranger, an impostor in the house, until you pipe down, readjust your vision and see that a different sort of relationship is possible, one that requires of you real imagination, a true athlete’s reflexes; you have to start listening to what the creature says. Gradually, it comes to you that the mind, even one as heavily padlocked as yours, is capable of affection and judgment all at once, though you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.

With parents that process of recognition seems more difficult, perhaps because as parents grow older, they need you more, and more basically, and need reinforces the sense of family. Or one may simply wish to retain a parent to retain one’s childhood, to establish a comforting mythology in which, however dignified and responsible one feels, still there is the illusion that somewhere the elder presides, like a god. As long as she is enthroned as Mother, you do not have to ascend the genealogy and command the family line.

But see how huge she stands on her own two feet: a colossus, Queen Lear exulting in a private language about ripeness being all. Motherhood was an achievement, but so is age. Is it not time to look at the woman squarely for the life she led outside you? Before her inaccessibility gets out of hand, is it not time to celebrate her other days?

The tulips you brought her have a capacity to curl and lose their body after a while. You may not approve of their progress, but change is not in your control. The aged mother might like you to know that, might wish to teach you to love things as they are, but sometimes she forgets what she means to say, and besides, it is impossible to be severe with a child who means so well, and who will weep like a baby at her death. She smiles instead. Her day gone once again (thank God), she returns to her evening and to the image of that night she glowed like a plum and swept your father in her arms.

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The Aged Mother Story in English For Kids

“ The Aged Mother ” story teaches kids having respect, value, love towards your parents, even in their old age. 

This story will help kids to strengthen their bond and relationship with their parents. 

Readers will also learn to never be blinded by power and make wrong decisions in life.

Introduction to the Aged Mother Story

Japanese folktale 'The Aged Mother ', written by Matsuo Basho who lived in the 1640s, tells the story of an old woman. In the story of a mother , we are introduced to a son and an aged mother living in a town where the mayor orders all the old people to be abandoned and left to die. Because of his fear of vulnerability, the governor of Shining outlawed the elderly.

The Story of the Aged Mother Summary

The Aged Mother by Matsuo Basho explores themes of power, selfishness, honesty, forgiveness, wisdom, love, and change. The story is told in the third person by an unnamed narrator, and it is evident from the outset that Basho is exploring the theme of power. In Shining, the ruler abuses his power by ordering the people to kill their elderly parents.

As a warrior, the ruler does not see the benefit of old people. He only realises the benefits of preserving old people at the end of the story. The ruler in Shining acts selfishly because he realises everyone will eventually be old, but it doesn't occur to anyone. As a result, they blindly obey the ruler's request until the farmer realizes that he cannot kill or let his mother die.

To save his mother's life, he risks his own life. That's why he hides his mother in his home, something he knows will not please the ruler of Shining. Nevertheless, when the situation called for it, he was forced to take his mother up the mountain and abandon her as a gentle means of killing her. When he reached the summit, just before climbing down the mountain, his mother advised him to follow the twigs she had left lying on the ground.

Having been touched by her advice and concern for his safety, he could not bear to leave her. So he returned home with her and hid her beneath the floor where he tended to her. On one windless night, the ruler wanted to show his power. He ordered everyone, even his wisemen, to make a rope of ashes. The people of Shining were confused as to how to carry out such an impossible task.

However, the farmer made the rope of ashes with the help of his mother's wisdom by twisting straw and burning it stretched across a row of flat stones.

Knowing that he could not accomplish this task alone, he explained to the ruler that it was the wisdom of his elderly mother who enabled him to complete the task. The king initially imprisoned the man, but over time he came to his senses and cited the saying: "With the crown of snow, wisdom comes!" Thus, the proclamation was revoked and the custom was no longer practiced.

At the end of the story, the ruler appears to have changed his mind after hearing the farmer describe how he made the rope from ashes. The ruler admits his error to others for the first and only time in the story.

The Story of Aged Mother

Moral of the Aged Mother Story

The moral of The Aged Mother story is that knowledge of the elderly is as important as a young person's strength. The aspect of family relationships and harmonious relationships in general goes beyond laws, cultural norms, or even beyond rules and regulations. In today's chaotic world, the ability to live harmoniously with others is a valuable interpersonal skill.

Note To Parents  

The act of reading and telling such morally strong stories to children promotes the development of the brain and imagination, encourages language development and emotions, and strengthens relationships. The story of a mother will teach children to have a strong bond with their parents, especially mothers. They will learn to respect, be kind and help their mothers. There are times when you can read. Also, you may be able to look at picture books, sing songs, or tell stories from your culture.

FAQs on The Aged Mother Story in English For Kids

1. What genre does the story of the aged mother belong to?

The story of the aged mother is a Japanese folktale. This story illustrates how much a mother loves her child. The situation was demonstrated when the governor proclaimed a law ordering the death of all old people.

2. What is the conflict in the story of The Aged Mother?

The farmer is ordered to abandon his beloved mother to die because she is old and weak.

3. What did the leader realize in the story of the aged mother?

When the ruler hears how the farmer made the rope out of ashes, he appears to have a change of heart. This is the first and only time in the story when the ruler acknowledges that he has misled others. In reality, he is dependent upon the wisdom of the elderly. As a result of realizing his mistake, he abolished the law.