I held my baby in my arms captivated by her charms. It seemed to me she was the best far superior to the rest. With modest poise I held her there sure all the other moms would stare and comment on her perfect looks just like the angels in storybooks. But then I looked around to see the other moms as proud as me. All holding children just as prized pride shining brightly in their eyes. Then I realized the grace that a mother sees in her child's face and that every mother is truly blessed because her baby is the best.
Reason for writing:
This poem was inspired by the well meaning, but unfortunate assumption that each new parent seems to have that their child should always be first in line, always win, and always have as much as the next. While we as parents are obligated to provide for our children to the best of our abilities, we must remember that the next parent's child is just as precious as our own.
Birth sign: Not entered
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