If

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with triumph and disaster

And treat those two imposters just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breath a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

The first five lines of this poem (the fifth line especially) remind me very much of my Mama. She is the bravest woman I know and yet would never consider herself so; her mercy is abundant but she never forsakes justice. Right now Mama's heart is torn between two children in Africa, a husband and seven children in her home and the reminder that her oldest child is about to leave for her own home 400 miles away. This will be an exciting and enriching year (it already has been) but it as not been without heartache and great faith on the part of my Mama.

I love you Mommy and pray for your strength. This poem gives me a vivid picture of your walk with Christ and I pray that I may emulate it in my own life.