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I may not win a trophy for the "Mother of the
Year,"
I'll likely not rush out on stage and smile as people cheer,
My name will not be three feet tall on Broadway's Grand Marquis
With brilliant neon lights that flash for all the world to see.
No president will phone my house and call me by
my name;
I won't be listed in "Who's Who" for newly-won acclaim.
No one will stand in line to have me autograph a book,
No tour guides will drive past my house so folks can gawk and look.
But there is something that I hope above all
else on earth,
I've felt this way, I'm sure, right from the moment of my birth.
When my time comes to slip away and leave this world for good,
I hope I hear my family say, "She did the best she could."
©
Mariane Holbrook
Used with permission
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