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Letters

From a Mother...                                                                  page3

I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will
feel with women throughout history who have tried
to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.

I hope she will understand why I can think
rationally about most issues, but become temporarily
insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my
children's future.

I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration
of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to
capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who
is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the
first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real,
it actually hurts.

My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that
tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it,"
I finally say.
Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter's hand and
offer a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the
mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful
of callings. This blessed gift from God . . .that of being a
Mother.

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