Mother's letter

                 Dear Céline,
                  
                 How to write this letter without writing 13 more?  Of course, I do
                 understand why I was asked to publically write to you, my famous
                 daughter, but nothing could change my 'sentiments': my ( mother's
                 )  heart has fourteen compartments!  Also, what I am writing to
                 you, I adress it to everone of my children....
                 I remember, realizing, when you were a small girl, that you loved
                 singing and I admit I felt a little discouraged about that... ''Not
                 another one!'' I said to myself.  I had 13 children before you, 9 of
                 which were carressing an identical dream to yours.  9 who also
                 failed with this dream, 9 that I couldn't have helped, because life
                 had imposed too many restraints, these, essential to our survival. 
                 It became an habit, if i can say, to silence this dream on all of my
                 children. One day, I started to question myself... You had this
                 talent, my little bird, we could not ignore it.  But mainly, you were
                 my 'baby', our baby and also my last one....  I wanted to
                 accomplish something with you.
                  
                 This is when I started to knock on showbusiness's doors.  I was ill
                 equipped to find myself in these surrroundings.  I was a mother. 
                 You know the story, Céline....  People were saying to me ''You
                 know, Mrs. Dion... ''  Yes, I knew... I knew I loved you and that I
                 would forced doors for you.... 
                  
                 It was not an earning job to write songs for a child.  I understood
                 that right away.  Also, I wasn't making it for the money, but.... for
                 love!  Have I told you, Céline, that the flow of songs I had in my
                 head was waking me up during the night?  I was going to work
                 aroung 5:00 , 5:30 in the morning, put on the stoves before the
                 arrival of the customers, and I was writing songs for you.  For your
                 dream, which became also mine.  I even obliged your brother
                 Jacques to put music to my words. ''But I never wrote music,
                 Mom!'' It was better for him to start doing it!
                  
                 The rest is history...  Now, I am shivering everytime I see 45,000
                 persons applauding you.  Shivers of pride.  Shivers of emotions. 
                 Mother's shivers. But it took quite some time for myself to get
                 there.  I was afraid of the success I had so wished for you.  At the
                 beginning, I thought your notoriety would take you away form me. 
                 You were surrounded by more and more professionals, who
                 accomplished duties that I always accomplished by myself, until
                 then.  Who was more well placed than a mother of 14 to know how
                 to take care of a single one?  I felt jealous of all those people
                 surrounding you... and I thought at the same time that It was stupid
                 to feel this way. I had to go through great lenghts before I would
                 understand that my place around my 14th child was 'untouchable'.
                  
                 The day you announced to me you were in love with your
                 manager, I had to climb up another mountain...  René was
                 grabbing my baby, my love, away form me, and I was mad at him
                 for that.  Like a mother.  Forgive me, Céline, if it hurted you.  I had
                 my own dreams regarding your prince charming... 
                  
                 We are, sometimes afraid of being of no more use for our
                 children.... But you knew how to prove to me, that even for a
                 'planetary' star, nothing replaces a mother..  Remember Los
                 Angeles, your sorrow and distress when you phoned me.  René
                 just felt a little episode ( heart malaise ).  You were then leaving for
                 France to tour.  He couldn't go with you.  'I would like to be near
                 you, my daughter,''  You answered me ''that's all I wanted to hear,
                 mother.  I need you.''  The day after, we met in New-York, then we
                 headed for Europe.  All of France were waiting for you, but in my
                 head, we were all alone in the world.
                 
                 You are going through another rough time.  It happens, on
                 occasion, to everyone of my children.  Last week, you reassured
                 me, on the phone: everything was going well.  You told me that
                 René was taking the vitamines I had sent him.  They are going to
                 do him good.  We exchanged fresh news, and after that, I could
                 breathe!  I felt a lot better ( up ) , and I went to sow.  I sowed a
                 whole little outfit, that same night!
                  
                 We all know that you wish to be a mother yourself.  You and I, are
                 we going to be alike, as mothers?  Maybe, on certain points.  For
                 example, I know that like me, hard times are giving you strength
                 and energy.  Having said that, you are going to be a mother of
                 another era.  You won't be sawing after your children would have
                 reassured you!  You will have an intense relationship with them,
                 but your way of living will be different. 
                  
                 I wish you the children that you desire, but if they do not come, it
                 wouldn't be the end of the world.  So many children are deprived
                 of parents....
                  
                 While waiting, you have many things to accomplish.  Your life is
                 not over, my child, it is only beginning!  While René was on the
                 operation table, I looked at you, my daughter, to realize how alike
                 we are.
                  
                 I was only 12 or 14 when my father showed me how to prepare the
                 horse for labour.  The horse was a hundred times bigger than I,
                 and I was scared. ''You must learn how to approach it'', father was
                 saying  ''Only then will you control your fear''.
                  
                 When I saw you take all of René's friends and relatives and shook
                 them, reminding them it was not the time to cry, your courage
                 appeared to me in all it's greatness.  And I admired you.  '' It is
                 your father, it is your friend but it is also my husband who is
                 fighting'' did you day.  What you said, my baby, gave strenght to us
                 all.  Though, God knows how scared you must have been
                 yourself...  '' We must be strong'', you kept repeating people
                 around you.  You knew how to find the encouraging words for
                 everyone. It warmed my heart to see you this way.  It is like that,
                 Céline, that we must approach life.
                  
                 These days, I devote all my time and energy for the 'Bal de la fète
                 des mères''  ( Mother's day Ball ) which is organised to profit the
                 Achille Tanguay foundation ( Mrs dion's father ). I could be with
                 you in Forida, but I decided to put my efforts towards this fund
                 raiser which goal is to help mothers in need, and honored their
                 courage.  It is an act of love, and everytime I do so around me, it is
                 to all my children, grand children, grand grand children  I am doing
                 for equally.  It is now my way of being your mother.  It is now my
                 way of loving you all.
                  
                 Maman
                  
                  
                 This is the e-mail address of the person who translated and found
                 this beautiful letter:  lycka@videotron.ca