And not many days after, the mother gathered all her interests and aspirations and ambitions and took her journey into a far country, into a land of hobbies, books, crafts, computers, facebook, and other things which do not interest a girl, and there she wasted her precious opportunity of being a friend to her daughter. And when she had spent the very best of her life and had gained popularity but had failed to find any satisfaction, there arose a mighty famine in her heart and she began to be in want of sympathy and real friendship.
And she went and joined herself to one of the clubs in that country, and they elected her chairperson of the house committee and president of the club and sent her to the national conferences. And she would fain have satisfied herself with the husks that other women did eat, and no one gave her any real friendship.
But when she came to herself, she said, "How many ladies of my acquaintance have girls whom they understand and who understand them, who talk about their girls and associate with their girls and seem perfectly happy in the friendship of their girls, while I perish here with heart hunger? I will arise and go to my daughter and will say into her, "Daughter, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight. I have not been a mother to you and I am no more worthy to be called thy mother. Forgive me now, and let me be thy friend."
But the daughter said, "not so, for it is too late. There was a time when I wanted your companionship, but you were too busy. I got the information and the companionship I needed, but I got the wrong kind, and now, alas, I am wretched in soul and body. It is too late - too late - too late!"
- adapted from a story in Streams in the Desert, Volume 2