Birth

by: Author Unknown,

There he is, sleeping, right there inside you;

he is gently moving, to him every movement is new.
He feels safe and warm, he knows he is soft and fragile;

he can't wait to be in your arms, and see your beautiful smile.
For he knows you are beautiful, he can feel it through your love;

which happens to be plentiful, something you'll always have enough of.
Soon he shall be with you, bringing you tears of joy;

then you will know just what to do,

to take care of this baby boy.

A Mother Holds

by: Author Unknown,

A mother holds her children's hands for a little while;

their hearts forever.

I Will Be A Wonderful Mother

by: Author Unknown,

There are women who become mothers without effort,

without thought,without patience or loss,

and though they are good mothers and love their children,

I know that I will be better.I will be better not because of genetics or money or because I have read more books,but because I have struggled and toiled for this child.I have longed and waited.I have cried and prayed.I have endured and planned over and over again.Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.I will notice everything about my child.I will take time to watch my child sleep, explore, and discover.I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold, and feed him and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot or cry tears of a broken dream.My dream will be crying for me.I count myself lucky in this sense; that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child.Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love.I will be a better mother for all that I have endured.I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend, and sister because I have known pain.I know disillusionment, as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by fire and hell that many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.I have prevailed.I have succeeded.I have won.So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort.I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.I listen.And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely.I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth when life is beyond hard.I have learned a compassion that only comes by walking in those shoes.I have learned to appreciate life.Yes, I will be a wonderful mother.

Very touching Mother facts !

by: Author Unknown,

When you came into the world, she held you in her arms.

You thanked her by wailing like a banshee.

When you were 1 year old, she fed you and bathed you.

You thanked her by crying all night long.

When you were 2 years old, she taught you to walk.

You thanked her by running away when she called.

When you were 3 years old, she made all your meals with love.

You thanked her by tossing your plate on the floor.

When you were 4 years old, she gave you some crayons.

You thanked her by coloring the dining room table.

When you were 5 years old, she dressed you for the holidays.

You thanked her by plopping into the nearest pile of mud.

When you were 6 years old, she walked you to school.

You thanked her by screaming, "I'M NOT GOING!"

When you were 7 years old, she bought you a baseball.

You thanked her by throwing it through the next-door-neighbor's window.

When you were 8 years old, she handed you an ice cream.

You thanked her by dripping it all over your lap.

When you were 9 years old, she paid for piano lessons.

You thanked her by never even bothering to practice.

When you were 10 years old, she drove you all day, from soccer to gymnastics to one birthday party after another.

You thanked her by jumping out of the car and never looking back.

When you were 11 years old, she took you and your friends to the movies.

You thanked her by asking to sit in a different row.

When you were 12 years old, she warned you not to watch certain TV shows.

You thanked her by waiting until she left the house. Those teenage years

When you were 13, she suggested a haircut that was becoming.

You thanked her by telling her she had no taste.

When you were 14, she paid for a month away at summer camp.

You thanked her by forgetting to write a single letter.

When you were 15, she came home from work, looking for a hug.

You thanked her by having your bedroom door locked.

When you were 16, she taught you how to driver her car.

You thanked her by taking it every chance you could.

When you were 17, she was expecting an important call.

You thanked her by being on the phone all night.

When you were 18, she cried at your high school graduation.

You thanked her by staying out partying until dawn. Growing old and gray

When you were 19, she paid for your college tuition, drove you to campus, carried your bags. You thanked her by saying good-bye outside the dorm so you wouldn't be embarrassed in front of your friends.

When you were 20, she asked whether you were seeing anyone.

You thanked her by saying, "It's none of your business."

When you were 21, she suggested certain careers for your future.

You thanked her by saying, "I don't want to be like you."

When you were 22, she hugged you at your college graduation.

You thanked her by asking whether she could pay for a trip to Europe.

When you were 23, she gave you furniture for your first apartment.

You thanked her by telling your friends it was ugly.

When you were 24, she met your fiance and asked about your plans for the future.

You thanked her by glaring and growling, "Muuhh-ther, please!"

When you were 25, she helped to pay for your wedding, and she cried and told you how deeply she loved you.

You thanked her by moving halfway across the country.

When you were 30, she called with some advice on the baby.

You thanked her by telling her, "Things are different now."

When you were 40, she called to remind you of an relative's birthday.

You thanked her by saying you were "really busy right now."

When you were 50, she fell ill and needed you to take care of her.

You thanked her by reading about the burden parents become to their children.

And then, one day, she quietly died. And everything you never did came crashing down like thunder. "Rock me baby, rock me all night long."

"The hand who rocks the cradle...may rock the world". Let us take a moment of the time just to pay tribute/show appreciation to the person called MOM though some may not say it openly to their mother. There's no substitute for her. Cherished every single moment. Though at times she may not be the best of friends, may not agree to our thoughts, she is still your mother!!! She will be there for you...to listen to your woes, your braggings, your frustations, etc. Ask yourself.....have you put aside enough time for her, to listen to her "blues" of working in the kitchen, her tiredness??? Be tactful, loving and still show her due respect though you may have a different view from hers. Once gone, only fond memories of the past and also regrets will be left.

IS HEAVEN IN THE YELLOW PAGES?

by: Author Unknown,

Mommy went to Heaven, but I need her here today, My tummy hurts and I fell down, I need her right away. Operator can you tell me how to find her in this book?
Is heaven in the yellow part, I don't know where to look. I think my daddy needs her too, at night I hear him cry. I hear him call her name sometimes, but I really don't know why.
Maybe if I call her, she will hurry home to me. Is Heaven very far away, is it across the sea? She's been gone a long, long time she needs to come home now! I really need to reach her, but I simply don't know how. Help me find the number please, is it listed under "Heaven"? I can't read these big, big words, I am only seven. I'm sorry operator, I didn't mean to make you cry, Is your tummy hurting too, or is there something in your eye?
If I call my church maybe they will know. Mommy said when we need help, that's where we should go. I found the number to my church tacked up on the wall. Thank you operator, I'll give them a call.

She is special

by: Author Unknown,

Why are you crying, a young boy asked his Mom? "Because I'm a woman," she told him. "I don't understand," he said. His Mom just hugged him and said, "And you never will, but that's O.K."....... Later the little boy asked his father, "Why does Mom seem to cry for no reason?". "All women cry for no reason," was all his Dad could say...... The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry. Finally he put in a call to God and when God got back to him, he asked "God, why do women cry so easily?" GOD answered...... "When I made woman, I decided she had to be special. I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet, made her arms gentle enough to give comfort... I gave her the inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times will come even from her own children. I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going and take care of her family and friends, even when everyone else gives up, through sickness and fatigue without complaining.... I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances. Even when her child has hurt her badly.... She has the very special power to make a child's boo-boo feel better and to quell a teenager's anxieties and fears.... I gave her strength to care for her husband, despite faults and I fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.... I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.... For all of this hard work, I also gave her a tear to shed. It is hers to use whenever needed and ! it is her only weakness.... When you see her cry, tell her how much you love her, and all she does for everyone, and even though she may still cry, you will have made her heart feel good.

MOTHER...

by: Author Unknown,

Mother You filled my days with rainbow lights,

fairytales and sweet dream nights,

A kiss to wipe away my tears,

Gingerbread to ease my fears.You gave the gift of life to me,

And then in love, you set me free.

I thank you for your tender care,

for deep warm hugs and being there.

I hope that when you think of me,

A part of you, you'll always see.

Wonderful Little Girl

by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

There came a frantic knock at the doctor's office door,

A knock, more urgent than he had ever heard before,"Come in, Come in," the impatient doctor said,"Come in, Come in, before you wake the dead."In walked a frightened little girl, a child no more than nine,It was plain for all to see, she had troubles on her mind,"Oh doctor, I beg you, please come with me,My mother is surely dying, she's as sick as she can be.""I don't make house calls, bring your mother here,""But she's too sick, so you must come or she will die I fear,"The doctor, touched by her devotion, decided he would go,She said he would be blessed, more than he could know.She led him to her house where her mother lay in bed,Her mother was so very sick she couldn't raise her head,But her eyes cried out for help and help her the doctor did,She would have died that very night had it not been for her kid.The doctor got her fever down and she lived through the night,

And morning brought the doctor signs, that she would be all right,The doctor said he had to leave but would return again by two,

And later he came back to check, just like he said he'd do.The mother praised the doctor for all the things he'd done,He told her she would have died, were it not for her little one,"How proud you must be of your wonderful little girl,It was her pleading that made me come, she is really quite a pear!"But doctor, my daughter died over three years ago,Is the picture on the wall of the little girl you know?"The doctors legs went limp for the picture on the wall,Was the same little girl for whom he'd made this call.The doctor stood motionless, for quite a little while,And then his solemn face, was broken by his smile,He was thinking of that frantic knock heard at his office door,And of the beautiful little angel that had walked across his floor

Tug-O-War

by: Author Unknown,

I attended a seminar where the speaker told a story that really touched me.
A family of three moved to the coast and bought a house on the beach. The only child of this family, really enjoyed snorkeling, so he went out with his friends shortly after the family moved in. The children were swimming and playing, and had no idea of the beast that lurked beneath the water.
Suddenly a 450 pound alligator grabbed the young boy and pulled him underwater. As the other children ran screaming to safety, several neighbors came outside to see what was wrong. Just as the child's mother arrived, she saw her son briefly break free of the alligator. He was racing as fast as he could to safety as his mother reached out for him. He was almost to shore, but the alligator was faster and was gaining on the boy quickly.
Just as the mother reached out and took her son's hand, the alligator grabbed his leg. At this point a tug-o-war began between the mother and the alligator. Finally, the adrenaline in this mother won, and she pulled the boy free of the alligator's jaws. The boy had several lacerations on his head and leg, and had broken many bones in his leg.
These wounds healed, but the boy would never forget the incident.
But when he told his story, he didn't show the scar on his leg or his head where the 450 pound alligator had attacked him. He showed the scars on the back of his hand, where his 95 pound mother had drawn blood with her fingernails pulling him to safety.
What a beautiful reminder of what we can achieve, with love and a good set of nails.

Touch

by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

Yesterday I paused outside the deli in my office building to let pass a rather harried looking mother pushing a stroller loaded with a variety of shoulder bags and a small little girl.
My mind was elsewhere and I never actually saw what caused it, but halfway through this narrow doorway a wheel of the stroller caught on the threshold and tipped the entire load forward. Caught off balance and a little pre-occupied herself, this young lady lost her grip and the stroller pitched forward, spilling the contents of several bags and one very frightened brown haired child.
Instinct took over and as any father would do, my first reaction was to lift this baby to my shoulder, pat her on the back and console her. I couldn't get over how light she was or how strange it was that she didn't look around for her mother. She just cried and stared directly at the wall and never turned her head in any direction.
Despite her small stature, Angelica, as I would later learn her name was, nearly choked me with her grip, as she frantically held onto my shirt and neck. Never responding to my voice as my daughter had, Angelica pressed her face into my hands as I stroked her hair and wiped the tears from her wide green eyes.
It only took a second or two for her mother to free the stroller from the doorway and race to my side, but Angelica would not let go of my shoulder and hand so I told her mother to go ahead and get her things together while I held the baby.
I had resumed my attempt at calming the baby when her mother turned and said, "She can only hear you if you put her ear to your chest, she's also deaf."
Also?
I turned my head to stare into this beautiful little girls eyes, and saw... nothing... no response... no reaction.
This frail, frightened child was blind and deaf, her only window to the world was through touch.
I stroked her cheek and was given a hopeful smile through her tears, I tickled her under the chin, she giggled and placed her head on my shoulder and sighed. My heart was broken as could only think of my own two and a-half-year old daughter, Christina. I thought of how often she fell asleep to my wife and I singing to her or how often I catch her looking out of the corner of her eye at me and laughing when I wink or make a face. Would she ever know the joy and love in her home if she couldn't see or hear it? Could I show her how much she means in my life just by touch alone? How often had I said "I love you, Good night" without a hug or a kiss?
We all know how important touching can be, we all know the peace that settles into your heart after a warm hug, but could any of us convey complex emotions like sadness, joy, sympathy or love through touch alone?
Did this little girl know that I was a stranger, someone she had never been near before? Did she even have a concept of different people at all? Could she tell her mother apart from any other woman? And then all these questions where answered in one quick second. Her mother took her from me and nuzzled her neck and hugged her.
The look on that child's face answered all and then some.
Of course she could.
I stood there watching Angelica being buckled back into her seat and tried my best not to cry in the hallway of my office. I pray that this mother can somehow get through to her little girl over the only bridge available, and I pray that I will never have to try.
I do know one thing though -- I'm going home tonight and practice.

Time Is Now, The

by: Author Unknown,

If you are ever going to love me

Love me now while I can know

The sweet and tender feelings

Which from true affection flow

Love me now while I am living

Do not wait until I am gone

And then have it chiselled in marble

Sweet words on ice cold stone
If you have tender thoughts of me

Please tell me now

If you wait until I am sleeping

Never will be death between us

And I won't hear you then
So if you love me, even a little bit

Let me know while I am living

So that I can treasure it
Now she is gone and I am sick with guilt because I never told her what she meant to me. Worse yet, I did not treat her as she deserved to be treated.
I found time for everyone and everything but I never made time for her. It would have been easy to drop in for a cup of tea and a hug but my friends came first. Would any of them have done for me what my mother did? I know the answer.
When I called mom on the phone, I was always in a hurry. I feel ashamed when I think of the times I cut her off. I remember too, the times I could have included her and didn't.
Our children loved Grandma from the times they were babies. They often turn to her for comfort and advice. She understood them.
I realise now that I was too critical, too short-tempered, too stingy with praise. Grandma gave them unconditional love. The world is filled with sons and daughters like me. I hope they see themselves in this letter and profit from it. It's too late for me and I am sick with regrets.

Steeped with Meaning

by: Author Unknown,

My mom and I sat in the small college cafe with our large mugs of something that smelled like lemon and tasted like home. We were catching up on the past four months of our lives and the hours just weren't long enough. Sure, we had talked on the phone and occasionally written. But the calls were long distance, and it was rare to find a moment when my roommate wasn't waiting for the phone or my younger brother or sister weren't waiting for my mom. So while we knew of each other's experiences, we had not yet dissected them. As we discussed her new job, and my latest paper, my new love, and her latest interview, I leaned back into my cushion and thought: I always knew when she became my mother, but when had she become my friend?
As far back as I can remember my mom was always the first that I came to with every tear and every laugh. When I lost a tooth and when I found a friend, when I fell from my bike, and when I got back on it, she was there. She never judged me; she let me set my own expectations. She was proud when I succeeded and supportive when I didn't. She always listened; she seemed to know when I was asking for advice and when I just needed a good cry. She multiplied my excitement with her own and divided my frustrations with her empathy and understanding. When she picked me up from school, she always asked about my day. And I remember one day asking about hers. I think I was a little surprised that she had so much to say. We rarely had late night talks (because she was already asleep), nor early morning ones (because I was not yet up), but in between the busy hours of our filled days, we found the time to fill each other's ears with stories and hearts with love. She slowly shared more and more of her own life with me, and that made me feel more open with her. We shared experiences and hopes, frustrations and fears. Learning that she still had blocks to build and to tumble made me more comfortable with my own. She made me feel that my opinions were never immature and my thoughts never silly. What surprises me now is not that she always remembered to tell me "sweet dreams", but that she never forgot to tell me that she believed in me. When she started going through some changes in her life, I had the opportunity to tell her that I believed in her too.
My mother had always been a friend. She had given me her heart in its entirety; but her soul, she divulged in pieces, when she knew that I was ready.
I sat across from the woman who had given me my life and then shared hers with me. Our mugs were empty, but our hearts were full. We both knew, that tomorrow she'd return to the bustle of Los Angeles and I1d remain in the hustle of New Haven. I know that we are both growing and learning. Yet, we continue to learn about each other and grow closer. Our relationship was like the tea we had sipped, mixed with honey and lemon, the longer it steeped, the better it tasted.

Sixteenth Birthday Letter

by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

A moving letter from my mom that I recieved on my 16th birthday:
Dear ________
Sixteen years ago you came into my life and changed it so totally that I cannot image it without you. You fill my days with every emotion from pleasure and pride to anger and impatience. But most of all you fill each day with your presence, your ever changing Megganess, and even when you are away you are in my brain and heart.
It is so hard to watch you grow up, but I feel you are doing a very good job of it. Each year I have seen you change and you are showing all the characteristics and character of a fine young woman. People always tell me how charming and funny you are, how wonderful you look and how interesting you are to talk to -- I am glad to hear these compliments -- but I can see them for myself. There are many minutes, hours, days, when you are a very difficult teenager to live with -- but that is to be expected. Your emotions are always "up front", both the good and the bad. They always will be. That is who you are.
You have a wonderful quality of independence that I value and respect. I cannot image myself at 16 ever going to Dominica alone -- yet I can't imagine you not going. You are an astounding and confusing mix of willingness to try new things and fear of failing at the every day parts of life. That will change with maturity as you see yourself succeeding and learn to trust yourself. You will make mistakes, fail at things, hurt yourself in a multitude of ways, everyone does, but the power to achieve is in every fiber of you and the will to get what you want will push you past the fear of rejection and failure. I have never been a risk taker and it has limited me in ways you probably cannot see. You must be willing to take risks - the pain of failing passes quicker then the regret of not trying.
Every year you get stronger emotionally as well as physically -- who else can power a home run like you can - and I hope you see a little bit more of the wonderful qualities that those of us who love you have seen since you were a baby. When you were in kindergarten you "adopted" a little boy who didn't quite fit in. His name was Jeffrey and he was slower then the rest of the children and had awkward ways about him. You were his friend in class; you stopped to help him and to talk to him and made his life happier because he could count on you to never ridicule him. Your teacher, Mrs. Beatty, who adored you, told me about this and said that she saw that you would always be a person with a good heart, a quality she valued above all. Eventually we all learn to read and write and drive and cook and hold a job, but we cannot "learn" a good heart.
When I was growing up 16 was a special birthday -- "Sweet Sixteen". Here in Rochester, it is the time when everyone goes to get a driver's permit. I suppose that driving is a mark of growing up in the suburbs in 1999 (it is your first real ticket to independence), just as a "Sweet 16" corsage with 16 sugar cubes(how tacky now that I think of it) was the mark of passage towards adulthood in my time since the subway provided independence long before 16 and few of us drove until later in life. Why is 16 more special then 15 or 17 -- I don't know. Perhaps it is the best time to stop and assess -- look back to where you have come from, to see who you were and who you are -- before plunging forward into adulthood, with all of its challenges and responsibilities. It is a time when parents can still try to protect the child in you since you are still permitted to act like a child, but you can safely assert your independence - parents still love their most obnoxious teenagers.
So today is special, and you are special. Not just because you are my daughter, but because you are a unique individual and one that I respect and enjoy being with. It gives me great pleasure to know that you love music and photography. And you have a very "good eye" not just in softball, but also in the visual arts that I like so much. And you have taste, lots of it. And you are tenacious when you want something and you use words so well. And lately I see your writing as having a very strong quality of emotion and feeling. And as a young person you have figured out how to talk to people -- almost instinctive in your "people skills". All these qualities are sometimes covered over by anger and shouting and frustration and impulse, but as you mature you will get more control and channel those intense emotions more productively. This is a natural process too, just like thinking your parents are godlike, then morons, then boring, then wise.
So take this day and reflect and then go forward. Make this a better place for yourself and those who love you. And we always will.
Love Mom

Pink Yesterdays

by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

How can it be that when

I bent to kiss you goodnight,

My daughter,

A beautiful young woman

Lay where only yesterday

A little girl had been?When did the barrettes and

Ponytail ribbons

Of birthday party days give way to the

Styling comb and make up mirror

Of Saturday night dates?Was it not only yesterday,Crayons of all colors laid upon the table

Where now bottles of nail polish rest?How can it be the buggy you filled With so many dolls

Has been pushed aside and new suitcases

Are filled instead?Did you ever know the finger you

Wrapped yourself around was tied right to my heart?It seems as though the ink has just dried

On the pages of your baby book

And here we are laughing over pages

In your year book.How did the ballet slippers of a little girl

Become the high heels of a young woman on her way?Such a little while ago you cried,"Mommy, I'm scared", and now you whisper,"Mom, don't worry I'll be fine."When did the teddy bear you hugged all night

Become the photo of someone you've chosen for life?How can it be the smell of baby powder

Turned instead to the scent of perfume,The giggles of a little girl

Became the tears of a teen,

And the roses tiny fingers picked

Were treasured like the petals of a prom bouquet?

Wasn't it only yesterday ruffles and tea parties

Colored my world pink and today

A new address and a good bye kiss stain my world blue?How did it happen so quickly and

When I stop to realize all my golden tomorrows

Will bask in the memories of pink yesterdays.Thank you Lord for pink yesterdays

My Mother, My Angel

by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

I remember those sleepless nights

When I used to wake up in tears

She would always be there to hold me

And say that everything was alright
I remember those times we shared

Tears and laughter were never in vain

My mother is an angel

Most importantly she's my angel
As I look back on those daysI can't help but thank God

For every special day

Given to me to enjoy

My mother's love and care
And on this special dayI'm proud to say

I love my mother

She's my angel every day

Mama's Song

by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

Big blue eyes and a toothless grin

So loving and innocent, my heart was easy to win

Little round head, and twinkling toes

Feathery hair, and a button nose

Screeching and squealing to everyone's delight

Cooing and laughing into the night
Sure...You cry sometimes

and you do cost a lot!But give you up, I could not!And the moments are rare, almost none

That I get frustrated with my little one

Rather my heart fills with affection

Each time you look at me with that certain connection
I thank God every day,for the love that you've brung

A sweeter song, my heart's never sung
A song of joy straight from above

A song of pride, of peace and love.You're God's greatest gift

that I've ever received

And If I'd had any doubts, I now in him believe
So all I want from you as my son

is to laugh, to love, to be safe and have fun.To care, to share, to listen and learn

and other's respect you have to earn
This really isn't hard, just look in your heart

It's always been inside you right from the start.So live your life loving every day

The sun and the rain

and make work as fun as play

Soak in the wonder of Life that it is

and never give up on happiness.
Love, Mama

Locket, The

by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

It was tarnished and old with a broken clasp.I tossed it into the drawer.Why did my mother give it to me,and what would I want it for ?
She said I liked it long agowhen it was shiny and new.But why she thought I'd like it now,I really wished I knew.
The years passed by, and my little girlwas going through my things,slipping bracelets on her armand trying on my rings.
"What's this?" I heard my daughter askas she held it for me to see."Why, it's just an old locket," I replied,"that your grandma gave to me."
"Oh, Mommy, isn't it beautiful?It's shaped just like a bookwith pages you can turn insideand pictures... Oh, look, Mommy, look."
I saw it then through a child's new eyes,what I should have seen from the start,the reason my mother treasured it soand wore it close to her heart.
Now when I'm tempted to look at the surface,discounting what's broken or old,I think of the locket all tarnished outsidewith an inside of purest gold.

Limits of Love, The

by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

After the divorce, her teenage daughter became increasingly rebellious.
It culminated late one night when the police called to tell her that she had to come to the police station to pick up her daughter, who was arrested for drunk driving.
They didn't speak until the next afternoon.
Mom broke the tension by giving her daughter a small gift-wrapped box.
Her daughter nonchalantly opened it and found a small piece of a rock.
She rolled her eyes and said, "Cute Mom, what's this for?"
"Here's the card," Mom said.
Her daughter took the card out of the envelope and read it. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks.
She got up and gave her mom a big hug as the card fell to the floor.
On the card were these words:
"This rock is more than 200 million years old. That's how long it will take before I give up on you."

Letter To My Son, Steve, A

by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

This letter is to my son Steve. You have been home now for almost one year. In fact it will be one year exactly on Sept. 4th 1999.
You see, Steve was in treatment for three years. I placed him in a residential treatment facility for treatment of Attention Deficit Disorder, and Oppositional Defiant Disorder.
You had such a hard time in life. People never did understand you or accept you for who you were. I wanted only for you to become the productive citizen that I knew you could become.
With your hyperactivity and emotional outbursts and abuse from peers and teachers it had taken its toll on you. Finally I knew that it was then or never that I took things into my own hands and help you.
I had tried to get help all along but, everyone kept saying that nothing was wrong. But, I knew better. It must be the intense feelings that a mother has. So I made my decision and placed you into treatment for help.
Well, that decision paid off. After the three years away you came home. What a difference time can make.
You had learned so much being away from home. You learned to control your anger and control how others make you feel. You are a strong, confident, wonderful young man. I am in awe of you and the tools that you learn and use on a daily basis.
You just finished a cooking class and recieved an award for the "Most Enthusiastic Cook". You love to cook and maybe one day will make a career out of it. But, what ever you do decide to do you will be successful.
I love you with all my heart. You are my life and I am so very proud of you. With all that you have accomplished so far and will in the years to come.
So Happy Anniversary to you and to me. To you for your hard work in all that you do daily. To me for having you home with me.
Love,Your Mom

Child's Love, A

by: Author Unknown,

I was off to go back to work one evening and my two children were busy sewing things on the sewing machine. My eleven year old daughter was, in the midst of her project, going to assist her older brother in making a little cushion. I left, and in a few hours returned to find a mess in the kitchen, front room, and both children sitting in front of the television. Having had a long day, I was very short with my greeting to them and then I noticed the material my daughter had used. It had been purchased to make a color coordinated baby blanket, and now had chunks cut out of almost every piece of fabric. Not stopping to listen, I exploded at the children and explained how angry I was at what had been done. My daughter listened to me sheepishly, not trying to defend herself at all, but the pain could be seen written across her face. She retreated to her room quietly, and spent some time in there alone before she came out to say good night and once again apologize for the mistake she had made.
A few hours later, as I was preparing to go to bed, there on my bed lay a beautiful, litlle cushion made out of the forbidden fabric, with the words "I LOVE MOM" . Along side it was a note apologizing again, and the innocence in which she had taken the fabric.
To this day, I still get tears in my eyes when I think of how I reacted and still feel the pain of my actions. It was I who then sheepishly went to her and apologized profusely for my actions. I display with great pride the cushion on my bed, and use it as a constant reminder that nothing in this world is greater than a child's love.