Mother love

Today I can’t help but think of my little girl’s mum; her wonderful, beautiful, fragile, misunderstood mum. I hope I do you proud; for the both of us, but mostly for our little girl. We miss you.

Today I can’t help but think of all those adoptive mother’s and foster carers who struggle with the traumas their children carry and relive day after day. Those who find and give love even while under fire.

Today I can’t help but think of my own mother, who listens when I’m failing, when I’m angry and tearful. When I am afraid. Who fills me up with love when i need it the most.

Today I can’t help but think of those mothers I meet at the foodbank who struggle to feed, clothe and warm their children. Who fight fiercely to put the food on the table, to get their kids to school. To sing them happily to sleep at the end of the day with full bellies, while their own growls with hunger.

Today I can’t help but think of those mother’s forced to flee war and persecution, only to find themselves shielding their little ones from razor wire, tear gas, the baton and yet more hatred.

Mother’s day marks our recognition of the nurturing compassion, kindness, open hearts and open arms of that special kind of Mother Love.

Yet so many of the Mothers I meet are left alone in their times of need.

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