When my children were little, I was their entire world — the healer of scraped knees, the soother of tears, the one whose kiss could mend any bruise or heartbreak. Every fall, every bump, every tiny “boo-boo”, they would come to me crying. I would kiss them and would tell them that this kiss has the magic to take away the pain. And they believed it — with all their hearts.
What I didn’t realize then was that this magic doesn’t fade with time. Now, at even 18 and 13, taller, bigger, grown ups and they still come to me. I am still the first call, the safe place, the one who listens when the world feels too loud. My hugs are still their shelter, my words still the band aid for their invisible wounds. The magic of mothers hugs and kisses never fades; it only deepens with time. Their “boo-boos” may change with time, but the cure will remain the same; mothers love.
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