He made the arching rainbow that's
     thrown across the sky.
He made the wonderful flowers that
     nod and smile as we pass by.
He made the majestic trees that
     bow with respectful grace.
But, sweetest of them all, He made
     the love light on the face
That bends above a baby, warding off the
     world's alarm,
A protective mother with a baby in her arms.

A soft pretty blanket embellished
     in silken thread,
A little snow white cap upon a
     sweet little head.
A garment that could make the winter 
     drift look dusty by it's side.
Two cheeks with pure rose-petal tint,
     two innocent eyes wonder wide.
And bending over, the mother, her face
     imbued with heaven's own charm,
God bless the woman with a baby 
     in her arms.
    --Anonymous

(Typed as written)

These are excerpts from a letter I wrote to you in 1983... 

"My son, they told me I need to name you, however, this is very
difficult for me to do.  This letter is very hard for me to write.  You have
always been a part of my thoughts and prayers.  Although I don't know you,
I hold a memory of a beautiful baby that I once held in my arms."
"I was told I had to give you up for adoption.  I told them you
were my baby and I wanted to keep you.  I was laughed at and ridiculed to 
even entertain the idea of keeping you."

"When my parents (my dad and step-mother) found out, I felt a great deal 
of relief.  I could enjoy the wonderful feeling of you growing inside of me. 
I felt you stretch and kick me, you frequently had the hiccups.  I would rub
my stomach and imagine our life together.  I wanted so badly to be loved 
and feel needed.  I held on to a dream that we could be together:  To give 
you all the love and attention that I never received."

"After I signed the papers to give you up for adoption, I was allowed
fifteen minutes to hold you and say goodbye.  When they brought you in the 
room, I was shaking all over.  I examined every inch of your body.  You 
were such a beautiful baby.  I didn't want to give you back to the nurse. 
I know whatI did was best for you.  I was yet a child myself.  I couldn't
have been the type of mother I wanted to be...My dreams were only fantasy."

"I am in the hospital taking care of myself.  I am realizing a lot
of things that I just stuffed and kept surviving.  I do not know how to 
love someone.  I know had I raised you I couldn't have been there like I
dreamt I could.  The experts say that the circle of child abuse continues 
until it is broken.  It is very painful to realize that I would have abused 
you if not physically, spiritually."

"I hope you were raised in a very loving home with all the 
emotional, spiritual, and monetary support every human deserves."
"I will continue to keep you in my memory.  You have my prayers. 
I will always be here waiting patiently if you ever want to look me  up."

"Love Always,
Mom"

As I said, this was written in 1983.  You were born July 7, 1977, in
San Antonio, Texas.  The adoption was handled through Methodist Mission 
Home.  Due to "female" problems and miscarriage, you were the only child 
I was able to have...you are even more special than you know.

This Mother's Day, 1998, I still long to hear from my son, I  know 
not where or who he is but the pain continues on.