`What do you want for Mother's Day, Mum?' my daughter of 22 years asks as she hugs me.

My eyes start to fill with tears and my heart begins to crumble into little pieces as I think of what I truly `want'. As I stand there holding her, I go back to when she was a little girl, so full of innocence and spirit. My `Little Sparrow' I used to call her. But these days, my `Little Sparrow' is full of pain and her innocence left her a long time ago.

I tell her, `Oh, just a pair of slippers will do.'

`Is that all, Mum?' she asks.

No, my darling daughter, that's not all I want but at this time in your life you aren't able or strong enough to give me what I truly want.

What I don't tell you is that I want to see your face clean from sores. I want to see the hopes and dreams you have be achieved. I want to see you find yourself after being lost for so long. I want you to awaken in the morning and feel the warmth of the sun on your body instead of sweat. I want you to be able to look in the mirror and tell yourself that you are special and beautiful.

These are the things I truly want. They can't be wrapped in pretty paper and a big bow and they can't be bought.

From a Mum