I hope I’ll smile at children in the supermarket aisle,
Not look at them as if I’d never seen something so vile.
I hope if kids are romping at the doctor’s surgery,
I’ll keep in mind that one of them feels poorly, just like me.
If a child careers towards me on a newly-mastered scooter
I hope I’ll simply step aside and think, ‘What could be cuter?’
I hope if families come to church to join in Easter Day,
I’ll realise that my tuts and glares might make them stay away.
I hope if I have come into the library for a book,
I’ll be glad that kids are in there too, won’t crush them with a look.
I hope I’ll look beyond the noise, the scooters and the rest,
To see their mother standing there, trying to do her best.
I hope I will remember when I’m getting on in years
That my reaction to her children can bring a mum to tears.
I hope I will remember when my own children were young
That all I wanted was someone to say to me, “Well done.”
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