Each night before to bed, prayer to God she says: br Protect my children from troubles likely to face... br br One night I said to her: they are no more infants br Able to take care where they live; grown ups br br A smile so sweet and soft I found bloom on her face br Signal not strange to me when she presents her case! br br ‘Grown ups who? You n’ me the children, no’ she mused: br ‘All infants to Him who protects, begin to end’ br br She doesn’t read too much or poems none she writes br I submit all my whims before my wisdom wife...