September 15: Worry and Kids, Gabriela Mistral, "The Sad Mother"

If you are a parent, you understand tonight's poem.  It doesn't matter whether your child is 6 weeks or six months or sixty years old.  You always worry about your kids.

One of the saddest moments of my life was watching my octogenarian mother sitting by my dying sister's hospital bed, holding her hand, and saying over and over, "It's okay.  Mommy's here."

Tonight, Saint Marty is thankful for his two beautiful, healthy kids.

The Sad Mother

by:  Gabriela Mistral

Sleep, sleep, my beloved,
without worry, without fear,
although my soul does not sleep,
although I do not rest.

Sleep, sleep, and in the night
may your whispers be softer
than a leaf of grass,
or the silken fleece of lambs.

May my flesh slumber in you,
my worry, my trembling.
In you, may my eyes close
and my heart sleep.