brothers and sisters may become inveterate enemies,
husbands may desert their wives, wives their husbands.
But a mother's love endures through all.
Who fed me from her gentle breast
And hushed me in her arms to rest.
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
A mother is the truest friend we have,
when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us;
when adversity takes the place of prosperity;
when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us;
when trouble thickens around us,
still will she cling to us,
and endeavor by her kind precepts
and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness,
and cause peace to return to our hearts.
All women become like their mothers.
That is their tragedy.
No man does.
I remember my mother's prayers
and they have always followed me.
They have clung to me all my life.
Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
~William Ross Wallace
All that I am, or hope to be,
I owe to my angel mother.