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By Elizabeth Chambless
"Bring back my youth," some say, but I'd
much rather
To keep my boys than have my girlhood now.
I'd have my face with mother wrinkles on it,
Nor trade it for the girl's smooth, thoughtless
brow.
"Come rain, come shine," I say, and may
I never
Whine when the storm clouds darken in the
sky.
I'd live my life, and please, God; may I never
Draw back and let the hard tasks pass me
by.
Help me to know life as a brave adventure,
Help me to face its buffets with a grin;
To teach my boys that life is what we make it,
That if we have the will to do, we'll win.
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