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I am a soldier's mother; I sometimes march alone and yet I stand with many, trying to be strong. You may not recognize me as you pass me on the street; I may look like any other that you by chance might meet. Like any mother, in a lot of ways I still remain, but watching my child become a soldier brought forever change. For deep down inside where you cannot see my own battle rages that's as real as it can be. It starts with feeling pride and all they have become, but often worry creeps in before the day is done. Then there is their absence that never will seem right, the days without a word that causes many sleepless nights. And at the sight of another soldier, my heart skips a beat, for it reminds me of my own, and that face I'd love to see. And I have a deeper sense of sacrifices our heroes make; I can see the hardships on the families, the loneliness, the heartache. But in spite of all that's raging, this mother's love holds strong as I am wrapped in God's peace and comfort and given strength to go on.
HONORING
SUPPORTING
SISTERHOOD
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