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July 21, 1929 - July 20, 2008
When I was a very little boy and had fallen down and hurt myself, I would run into the house and find my mother. She would not bother to ask me what in the world I had been doing to bruise myself that way; or scold me for not being more careful. She would take me in her arms and hold me until I was through with my weeping, and everything was all right again. Perhaps my skinned knee still hurt, but I could bear it now. You see, my mother was always definitely on my side, no matter how I came by my mishaps.