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DEAR GENTLE HANDS HAVE STROKED MY HAIR, AND COOLED MY BROW. SOFT HANDS THAT PRESSED ME CLOSE, AND SEEMED TO KNOW SOMEHOW. THOSE FLEETING MOODS AND ERRING THOUGHTS THAT CLOUD MY DAY, WHICH QUICKLY MELT BENEATH THEIR SUFFRAGE AND PASS AWAY. NO OTHER BALM FOR EARTHLY PAIN, IS HALF SO SURE, NO SWEET CARESS SO FILLED WITH LOVE NOR HALF SO PURE, NO OTHER SOUL SO CLOSE AKIN THAT UNDERSTANDS, NO TOUCH THAT BRINGS SUCH PERFECT PEACE AS MOTHER'S HANDS. MOTHER IN GLADNESS, MOTHER IN SORROW, MOTHER TODAY, AND MOTHER TOMORROW, WITH ARMS EVER OPEN TO FOLD AND CARESS YOU, O MOTHER OF MINE MAY GOD KEEP YOU AND BLESS YOU. BY W. Dayton Wedgefarth
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