“Motherhood,” Ensign, January 2016, 49
Sleeping soundly, so unaware,
So peaceful, soft, without a care.
I pray each night you’re safe and warm
From every day’s encircling storm.
Some say this is no place to raise a child,
So small, so pure, so meek, so mild.
But me, I tend to disagree …
This child, it seems, is raising me.