Through it all,

Through all of it. . .

     the helling and yelling,

     the smiling and beguiling,

     the learning and yearning,

     the teaching and preaching,

     the lies and sighs,

     the insecurities and impurities,

     the truth and my youth,

     the childhood and wildhood. . .

Yes, through all the tears of fearful years

There was hope.

There was Mama.