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Your Children Are Not Your Children.
They are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you.
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
( Kahlil Gibran )

Grandparents Are Heroes.
The people who hold the British family together are grandparents.

Grandmothers and grandfathers are often asked to bring up two generations of children.
They raise their own children and then they do it again with their grandchildren.
And grandparents do this because their own grown-up children are frequently too busy to do it.
Too busy earning a living, too busy trying to survive.
Or too stupid.
Or too lazy.
Or otherwise preoccupied.

Grandparents bring up their grandchildren for all sorts of reasons but they do it with love, without complaint, and often with a patience that mere parents can never match.
Grandparents are the reason that the British family still exists.
They play an invaluable role for millions of families, helping to bring up children and helping working families balance work and family life.
Grandparents are our true unsung heroes and this country would be in a right old state without them.

We Will Never Forget.
She told our son a lie
Then she murdered our unborn grandchild.
Muscle relaxants up the bum
A sedative and then an empty tum.
A mother aborts her unborn child
She didn’t really care
The hurt inside our heart will always be there.
The unborn child’s brother, when he is told the truth
Will never forgive his mother
For killing his sister or brother.
We will never forget
It will always be on our mind
How you deliberately murdered
And deprived us of another grandchild.
The hurt inside the father
The unseen tears in his eyes
Only God knows if you were decent enough
To say a prayer goodbye.
( R S Hutchison )

The Love Of Grandparents.
Grandparents sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.
Grandchildren are God’s way of compensating them for growing old.
Grandparents give us a different kind of love to the kind we get from our parents.
It’s more uncritical, more unconditional.
Grandparents love us for ourselves, whereas parents are always trying to make improvements.
Grandparents love us in a special way.

And when they are gone, there’s a hole that will never be filled.

You are wonderful and we are so lucky to have you.
You are kind and you are generous, so sweet and loving, too.
There is no Nanny in the world who is more loved than you.

Our Selfish Society.
If abortion must be legal, then let it at least be despised.
Let us call it what it is, a killing conducted to suit the selfish.
Let’s not have any rubbish about it’s supporters being ‘pro-choice’, when in fact they’re ‘pro-death’.
What choice has the poor baby about being murdered?

An abortion can never be better than letting the baby be born and adopted.
Depriving a healthy, innocent soul of a whole lifetime should never be an option.

There are plenty of caring people who would be only too happy to do the adopting.

Every single day I know that I can call you if there’s anything I need or any news I want to share, and it’s every single day that I know you would go that extra mile, to do whatever it takes to make me happy.

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