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There are two kinds of love—love which receives, and love which 
gives; and as “it is more blessed to give than to receive,” a mother's love, 
which is always giving , is the choicest love of all. 
Children honor most the mother that loves most, and religious daugh¬ 
ters make pious mothers. One hundred and twenty clergymen being as¬ 
sembled together, were invited to state the human instrument of their 
change for the better. How many attributed, under God, to their mother, 
the granting of that mercy ? Above one hundred ! Her children rise up 
and call her blessed. 
It may seem but a thankless toil or a lowly destiny to care for little 
ones, and bear the weariness and pain that waits upon a mother's lot. But 
that mother who sees her children born again through her instrumentality, 
and made a blessing to the world , in answer to her prayers, has not labored 
in vain nor spent her strength for naught. 
When all the world grows strange, 
Still shall her arms enfold thee; 
When smiling fortunes change, 
Still shall her words uphold thee. 
When all thy hopes shall fail, 
And leave thee naught but care; 
And when thy cheek grows pale, 
Or wasted with despair;— 
When desolation meets thee 
Without an arm to save: 
When death himself shall greet thee, 
A victim for the grave;— 
Then Mother shall caress thee 
With all an angel’s care; 
Then shall she softly bless thee 
With e’en an angel’s prayer. 
— Anon. 
