There's a woman

There is a woman who has something of God in her by the immensity of her love, and that of an angel by the untiring requests for her care; a woman who, being young has the wisdom of a old one, and in her old age works with the vigor of youth; a woman who, if she is ignorant discovers the secrets of life with more success than a sage, and if needed she adapts to the simplicity of children; a woman who, being poor, is fulfilled with the joy from those she loves and being rich, would gladly sacrifice her treasures so her heart will not suffer the wound of ingratitude; a woman who, although weak will sometimes display the fierceness of a lion; a woman who we do not know how to appreciate during her lifetime because all pains are forgetten at her side, but after death, we would give everything we are and everything we have to see her again for one more instant, to receive from her a single hug, to listen to a single word from her lips...

Do not ask me her name if you do not want me to soak your album with tears, for she has already crossed my path.

When your children grow, read this page to them, and they, covering your face with kisses, will say to you that a humble traveller, in payment of the hospitality he has received, has left here for you and them, a portrait of their mother.