We are the sun, not the wind

There's an Aesop's fable - maybe you know it? - where the sun and the wind make claims to be the stronger. They spy a man walking along a country road, and decide to test who is the strongest of them. The test will be which of them makes the man remove his coat. The wind blows himself up a storm, but the man merely pulls his coat tighter and tighter around him. The sun, however, shines and shines, and the man gets hotter and hotter until he takes off his coat.

We are the sun. We are the life-giving sun.

My children are my abiding and absolute love in my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do for my children to ensure their happiness and their health, as far as I am able. I love them. I adore them.

They are amazing people. I never see them as less than two individual miracles. They arose from love and in love, and in love and respect they dwell in my house.

I demand respect for them. I wish them to travel through life being respected and having their words matter to others, not tossed aside as just bleatings or whinings or complaints.

My children are all to me. My children are my gift to the future. I acknowlege the earth and know I am one with her as she procreates in springtime. My power is infinite because my power is of creation. I created life. I have given the gift of life.

What do men of little minds give? What does Graham Badman give? What do he and his greedy panel of 'experts' know of my children? Nothing. They know nothing. They conceive only death and decay. They are static takers of the world's goods. They understand nothing. They are not of earth though they will be earth.

They have no power except the inconstant worldly power of false promises and unreal words. They seek to restrain angels, and mock the deep earth from whence we all are nourished with their unreality and their foolish clacking chatter.

They will pass away.

We will abide.

I am a mother. I have infinite power.

I am a mother. You threaten the freedom of my little ones. I am a mother. Hear me roar.