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What’s in a name?

“I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never been able to believe it. I don't believe a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage”. L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables. 
RoseA symbol of love. Indeed, there’s something in a name. Because that is what she is. Not just a symbol but an embodiment of love. My mother is love. All kinds of love. Sometimes tough, sometimes soft. Sometimes with tears in her eyes, other times with laughter on her lips. Nonetheless, at all times, it is sacrificial. Her charity begins at home but it most certainly doesn’t end there. It extends across every person and place. My mother steps into a room and lights it up like the sun rays at the break of dawn. No one comes in contact with her and leaves without a smile. Her heart is so big, I wonder sometimes how her petite body bears the weight.
Ijeoma - beautiful journey
From the stories she tells to my first-hand encounter with her life…

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