A Mother’s Prize

As I am living in my final days,
I don’t desire laurels or flowers or praise;
I’ve already been blessed with the prize that I sought
That with gold or silver or pearls can’t be bought;
The legacy I leave is my children now grown
Who are happy and strong and can stand on their own.

By Betty Killebrew
May 4, 2009

Read more articles, stories and poems by Betty Killebrew at:   www.inspirationalarchive.com

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: +1 (from 1 vote)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>