The poem that comes to mind from this should be Ode to a Wanderer.
the thread in the hands of a fond-hearted mother, makes clothes for the body of her wayward boy.
carefully she sews and thoroughly she mends, dreading the delays that will keep him late from home.
but how much love has the inch-long grass, won the third spring festival.
vernacular translation
A loving mother uses a needle and thread in her hand to make clothes for her long-distance son. Before he left, he sewed a needle tightly, fearing that his son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. Who dares to say that a child's weak filial piety like grass can repay the kindness of a loving mother like Chunhui Puze?