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The Mother: Compassion Without Losing Yourself
A soft breeze moves through the leaves.
Birds sing quietly in the distance.
Every flower here is different.
Some are blooming brightly.
Others are still small buds waiting for their own season.
Yet none of them are rushed.
Each grows according to its own timing.
In the center of the garden sits a beautiful stone bench.
Julie Jewels Smoot
Jul 153 min read
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