My Mother's Gift

My beautiful mother presented me with this poem for my birthday. As she read it to me, she started to cry. Which, of course, made me cry.

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
- Lord Byron, 1841

She is so wonderful and I could not be more moved or humbled by what she feels and views me as:

One of the many things I obtained from my mother is a love of beautiful poetry that expands the mind and opens the soul. I am so grateful and overjoyed to be considered special or worthy enough to be sent to the home of the most wonderful, generous, Christ-like couple.