It all begins today, as it always did. She turned in the bed, slowly, a little arthritic, she is an ageing woman, early seventies, but today is the day she lives for, it has always been that way, she is a mother, and will always be. The porridge is her first chore, and she is proud of her cooking abilities, as are all who eat at her table. Being a mother, being a guardian, being a carer, today is the start and end of everything. Far off places and pension plans have no part of her life, it’s being a mother, today.

Solomon was reminiscing, how those that give it all, are the forgotten hero’s of yesterday, the tireless mothers, who worked

and slaved for their children and a better world. He wondered what the “men” of the world had been doing these last twenty years, the social destruction obvious, the stress in children’s lives relentless, the pressure as near to the Pope as love was to hurt, everywhere. If only, come on Mrs Clinton, the women of the world need a voice.

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