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A very special Mother's Day
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There is one thing that is as certain as anything can be — that our mothers, whether we are close to them or not, will always have a special place in our hearts.

It’s not that dad isn’t important, but there is that special intangible bond with our mothers that forever sets the path of our lives.

When we are in pain, or in trouble or our celebrating a big success in our lives, the person we really want to be there the most is our mom. Today we celebrate our Moms. We indulge them with candy, food and special visits. But moms really don’t need that; we do this to appease ourselves. A mom will never in her lifetime ever stop thinking that you are her little boy or little girl, and she will always in one form or another try to protect us.

We salute our mothers and grandmothers today, and we offer them thanks. It is their nourishing love that, in spite of ourselves, has been the driving force on what we are and who we have become.

For those that have lost their mothers, this is also a day for you to think special thoughts and to enjoy the memories of a woman who always put you first.

In honor of our moms, we have included a humorous note from an Irish mother to her son who has gone off to America. We hope you enjoy.

From all of us here at the paper: Happy Mother’s Day.

We're not sure where teh following humorous essay originated, but it's been circulating for some years and we hope you enjoy it:

Dear Son,

I am writing this letter slowly because I know you can't read very fast. We are all very well here. You won't recognize the house when you get home because we've moved. It is quite nice and has got a washing machine. I put shirts in it last week, pulled the chain, and haven't seen them since.
Your father's got a really good job now. He's got 500 men under him. He's cutting the grass at the cemetery.
Your sister Mary has had her baby, but I don't know if it's a boy or girl, so I can't tell you whether you're an aunt or an uncle.
Your cousin Pat died last week at the brewery. He fell into a vat of whiskey. A couple of his mates dived in to save him, but he fought them off bravely. He was cremated on Wednesday, and it took a week to put the fire out. It only rained twice last week; once for a day and once for three days. I've sent you a coat, but it was too heavy for the post, so I cut the buttons off and put them in the pockets.
Your brother Tom is still in the army. He's only been there and they've already made him a court martial.

Your loving mother,

P.S. I was going to enclose £5 but I've already sealed the envelope.