A few months ago, I received a card from my mom in the mail. A sweet note was written inside along with an old piece of paper. In her note, she explained she had found this small piece of paper in a wallet tucked way back in her dresser drawer. The paper she carried around for years had this poem written on it:
Oh give me patience when tiny hands tug at me with their small demands.
And give me gentle and smiling eyes, keep my lips from sharp replies.
And let not fatigue, confusion or noise obscure my vision of life's fleeting joys.
So when, years later, my house is still, not bitter memories its rooms may fill.
- Author Unknown
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