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February Third

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It used to be a day like any other in the year.
No reason of significance for me to hold it dear.
Just another wintry day that might bring wind or rain
Or biting cold or drizzling gray, but nothing of great gain.
But this year all that changed. A near miracle occurred.
I met the son I’d never known on February third.

I can’t describe my feelings when I met him that first time,
But through my nervousness emerged a happiness sublime.
He shook my hand- his grip was firm, his eyes were clear and blue-
And thirty years of yearning for that moment all came true.
He said hello and spoke my name with that voice I’d never heard.
Those answers to my prayers were mine on February third.

The fault is mine that we have been apart for all those years,
And thinking of the times I’ve missed could bring my soul to tears.
But I am glad his childhood was happy and secure.
I’m glad his family ties are strong, and know they will endure.
I’m glad he lives life boldly, whether at work or play.
I’m glad he chose to meet me on the second month, third day.

Now that our paths in life have crossed, I don’t know where they’ll lead.
They’re pathways seldom travelled, but I know I have a need
To explore with him our options, the decisions up ahead.
To talk with him and listen, to say what must be said.
I want him to have confidence in me, to know I care.
Just like on February third, when he calls I’ll be there!

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