Mom, I look at you

and see a walking miracle.

Your unfailing love without limit,

your ability to soothe my every hurt,

the way you are on duty,

unselfishly,

every hour, every day,

makes me so grateful

that I am yours, and you are mine.

With open arms and open heart,

with enduring patience and inner strength,

you gave so much for me,

sometimes at your expense.

You are my teacher,

my comforter, my encourager,

appreciating all, forgiving all.

Sometimes I took you for granted,

Mom,

but I don’t now, and I never will again.

I know that everything I am today

relates to you and your loving care.

I gaze in wonder

as I watch you being you—

my miracle, my mother.

By Joanna Fuchs