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- The Monthly Harvest
- International Buddhist E-Zine
Your
Mother is always with you. She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street,
she's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks, she's the cool hand on your
brow when you're not well. Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallized
in every teardrop. She's the place you came from, your first home; and she's the map you
follow with every step you take. She's your first love and your first heartbreak, and
nothing on earth can separate you...not time, not space...not even death
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