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The Bow

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Each morning,
getting ready for the day ahead,
my mother's loving hands would tend to my sister and my hair,
usually adorning it with a bow,
a ritual that became a cherished routine for me.
Whether it was a day of play or a special occasion,
the bow remained a constant,
like a symbol of our bond and the care woven into our mornings.

Now, years later, 

as I glance at old photographs of my mother 

wearing a bow in her hair, 

skillfully crafted by my grandmother, 

I realize the depth of love that flowed through those simple, everyday moments. 


It's the essence of those moments that laid the groundwork for the day ahead, 

imbuing it with warmth and connection.


To me, the bow transcends its physical form; 

it becomes a tribute to the resilient women who have shaped my life. 

I know from stories how they faced adversity with unwavering strength, 

refusing to be silenced or sidelined. 

Instead, they stood tall, 

each step is a testament to their resilience and determination to be heard and seen.
By action, they chose to take their place

by sharing their love and compassion.

In honor of all the women before me,
the ones that walk beside me, the ones that come after me.


To you, I say: 

We rise together. 

Allow your light to shine bright, 

just as those remarkable women before us did.
They have led the way.
It is time,
take your seat.


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