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A Foster Mother's Dream

Suddenly, the sharp cry of a newborn child pierces the dark quiet of the night. A young mother stumbles toward the sound, silently praying that the cries will end. This is the fourth time the baby has awakened and the exhausted mother does not know how much more she can take. As she reaches the cradle, for a split second, she is tempted to fling the blanket over the baby's face and close the door, muffling the cries, so she can get some sleep. Instead, she reaches inside and gently lifts the squirming infant to her breast. As the baby cuddles against her, sucking hungrily, the mother marvels at the tiny life she created and knows without a doubt that she could never hurt this child whom she loves so much.

The young mother does not remember the name or the face of the foster mother who many years ago held her through the night, while she trembled and screamed, struggling to rid her small body of the drugs that ravaged it. Her mind does not remember the sound of her foster mother's voice, her soothing touch or the smell of her perfume, but her soul will never forget.

Many miles away, the foster mother smiles in her sleep, somehow aware that the love she gave that tiny baby so many years before did not end when the child moved on, but is now reflected in the face of the young mother as she tenderly places a soft kiss on her sleeping infant's cheek.----MAS, 1998

MOMMY'S GARDEN

SOME OF MY CHILDREN GREW IN MY WOMB,

AND SOME OF THEM GREW IN MY HEART...

BUT NOW THAT WE'RE A FAMILY,

I CAN'T TELL THEM APART!----MAS, 1998

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