I moved her page to my domain, I loved this so much. The links are all for my site now.
Thank you Deirdre I love
This page is dedicated
to my dear Mother,
, whom I also consider a very dear
Your Special, Mom!
always been there
It was a warm summer day when the God placed it in her hands. She trembled with emotion as she saw how fragile it appeared. This was a very special gift the gods were entrusting to her. A gift that would one day belong to the world.
Until then, He instructed her, she was to be its guardian and protector. The woman said she understood and reverently took it home, determined to live up to the faith that God had placed in her. At first she barely let it out of her sight, protecting it from anything she perceived to be harmful to its well-being; watching with fear in her heart when it was exposed to the environment outside of the sheltered cocoon she had formed around it.
But the woman began to realize that she could not shelter it forever. It needed to learn to survive the harsh elements in order to grow strong. So with gentle care she gave it more space to grow...enough to allow it to grow wild and untamed. One day she became aware of how much the gift had changed. It no longer had a look of vulnerability about it. Now it seemed to glow with strength and steadiness, almost as if it were developing a power within.
Month after month she watched as it became stronger and more powerful, and the woman remembered her promise. She knew deep within her heart that her time with the gift was nearing an end.
The inevitable day arrived when God came to take the gift and present it to the world. The woman felt a deep sadness, for she would miss its constant presence in her life. With heartfelt gratitude she thanked God for allowing her the privilege of watching over the precious gift for so many years.
Straightening her shoulders, she stood proud, knowing that it was, indeed, a very special gift. One that would add to the beauty and essence of the world around it.
And the mother let her child go.
By Renee R. Vroman