Poem written by Frances in 1999, on how her childhood memories are like therapies.
When I think of my memories
they are my beautiful therapies.
I think back of my childhood
which was almost like sainthood.
My Mother was in charge,
and with her love and command
I felt that I could go anywhere to land.
She helped me to develop my wings
so that I can fly through any twigs.
She taught me to love life
no matter what comes in strife.
Thank you, my Mother, for your beautiful teachings
so that I can have these memories
which are my beautiful therapies.
January 10, 1999