My Mother's Letter

My mother died when I was 7 years old. I was adopted and raised by my grandmother. One of the pictures in our house was a framed 8x10 of my mother when she was about 19. One day when I was 15, I decided to take the frame apart so I could clean the inside of the glass. A letter fell out and I recognized my mother's handwriting. My grandmother knew instantly what it was. She said,"I forgot all about it. I put it there after she died for safe-keeping." This is the letter my mother wrote for my brother and me when she knew she was dieing...

My Children

Who is eloquent enough to set on paper what a mother's children mean to her? Not even the pens of poets, and composers and scholars; for there are no words which convey enough depth to relate that love which I feel for my precious son and daughter.
...and though I write volumes tonight, tomorrow they would be obsolete for my devotion is multiplied each day.
They are the whole of my every dream. They are priceless. There is no amount of money that I would trade for one freckle on my daughter's funny little nose or one flash of my son's impish dimple.
How can I say what I feel when they smile? When they wrap both soft arms around my neck and say, "I love you, Mommy."? When they insist that I take a bite of their candy? When my son says, "Lean all your weight on me, Mom. I'm strong enough." When my daughter brushes my cheek and says, "I'd do anything to make you well, Mommy."
There just are no words

This letter is my most precious possession and is kept in a scapbook dedicated to my two mothers. The scrapbook was in one of the boxes that suffered during our water leak this past week. I am so thankful that it was not ruined and lost forever.