My Mother. Her beauty is beyond compare. She is full of grace and mercy. She loves freely and fully, never asking, or even wanting, anything in return. She is the embodiment of motherhood, womanhood. She is still where my head longs to rest. She carries all of my burdens and she crushes all of my fears. She is a warrior. She stands her ground. Her home is a refuge for all who are weary. Her food is the stuff of heaven. For both her home and her cooking are her love poured out. Her joy is found in the service of others. She hopes in only the good and the true. She dwells not in the circumstance but only in the promise. She continually expands her tent. She is a truth teller, a steadfast saint, a lover of the unlovable, a beautiful baker, a perfect painter, a sacrificial servant, and a dragon slayer. She was etched by the Master Artist, The Creator, and He broke the mold after her. She is incomparable, incomprehensible, incredible. My Mother.