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How many of you remember this poem: I just stumbled on it again and want to share.

My Mother

Who sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping on my cradle bed
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My mother

When pain and sickness made me cry
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should not die?
My mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray
And love God's holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom's pleasant way?
My mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who was so very kind to me
My mother.

Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear,
And if God please my life to spear
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My mother.

The time has far gone and children have become elder brothers and sisters fathers and mothers called unto various responsibilities. Let's not stop this flow. Out of each and everyone flows the potential to be the original of you which God made. Never stop believing in your abilities. They are unique and life giving.