Not all understand why mothers cry, and why they shed their tears,
Well then I do know the reason why, for they weep with your fears.
A mother is meant to kiss a weed when given to her by her child
She will put it in water and make sure it is safe even, if it is wild.
A mother knows she is meant to kiss her daughters wounded finger when it bleeds,
And she is always the one in back of the Church, fingering her Rosary beads.
Why? Some ask. They just do not understand a holy mother’s way…
But I know my mother perfectly well, for I am with her day by day.
She sits beside me when it rains outside, in the cold, or in the heat,
I remember when I was a wee little girl, and gave to her a stone – and she smiled at me and stroked my bangs, and said “how very sweet!”
And as I write this to you, my friends, I tell you these as important things,
Because mothers are sent here from Heaven, forever guiding us with their wings.

Not all understand how fathers stand strong, through the bad times and the good,
They can whistle and dance and sing a cheery song, they support our shelter and food.
A father is meant to chop the wood for the fire as you stand to watch by his side,
He will hold your bicycle when you cross the street when on your very own ride.
A father knows he is meant to show his son how to genuflect and say a long prayer,
And he is always the one by the fireplace, reading and relaxing with a blanket in his chair.
Why? Some ask. They just do not understand a holy father’s way…
But I know my father perfectly well, for I am with him day by day.
He laughs with me when I come in drenched, and sits me down with a towel,
I remember that story he told late at night – how he frightened me with that howl!
And as I write this to you, my friends, I tell you these as important things,
Because fathers are sent here from Heaven… never lose these memories.