You are the poem I dreamed of writing;
The masterpiece I longed to paint.
You are the shining star I reached for
In my ever hopeful quest for life fulfilled.
You are my child;
Now, with all things I am blessed.
author unknown.
All who know me, understand that I am haunted by feelings that I have no discernable talents. This weekend, however, in stake conference, the visiting authority told us that if we wanted to know how effective we were as parents, look not at our children's accomplishments, but look at the way our children parent their children. If that is really true, I acknowledge, in this one case, of being an artiste extraordinaire because my children are AMAZING parents!
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2 comments:
Well thank you (although I guess I'm not one of your children-by-birth), but if this blog isn't an example of your ability to write well, then I must be off. I've really been enjoying your entries; they're so fun to read. :)
Maybe not by birth, my dear, but I certainly do claim you as one of my own (and thank you for your kind comments)!
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