by Helen Steiner Rice
The dearest gifts that heaven holds,
The very finest, too,
Were made into one pattern
That was perfect, sweet, and true;
The Angels smiled, well-pleased, and said:
"Compared to all the others,
This pattern is so wonderful
Let's use it just for Mothers!"
And through the years, a Mother
Has been all that's sweet and good
For there's one bit of God and love,
In all true Motherhood.
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