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The closest I came to a good mother was my great aunt Mo. She would sit me on the kitchen table and patiently make me art out of paper. I liked the planes because she made them fly. She was always warm and diligent. Her hugs were from purity and always knew when I needed them. She had three children that always regarded me whose heart I embraced too. She wasn't perfect but she was a good mother because she was beloved to the end. 10-Oct-2018