me make you understand that... I love you and will never leave you, for you are 'Mama,' and I shall never forget the first day you were 'Mama' to me, and all the days and years down to this day"...

I stuffed my handkerchief into my mouth to keep the scream from breaking loose from my throat — the scream of a lost, abject soul, cast as a dependent upon the shoulder of life...

I was small, taking leave of childhood, when my life was parted from yours. I never knew my father, though at times I remembered his face, and I thought him one of the people of the other world, as you had led me to believe; but I learned the truth afterward — I learned that he lives in another part of the earth, far from us, after separating his life from ours... I learned it from a mouth other than yours, and I wept for your sake and fell to thinking of you...

You loved me greatly, Mother. Was the truth of that love a truth, or merely the child's fancy in me? I do not know! You would try to bring gladness into my soul by every possible means; you were alarmed at my tears and laughed at my smiles. I would wake in the night terrified by a frightening dream, and you would carry me to your bed, wrapping your arms around my body, and I would sleep... What happened after that, that you became other than my mother — what happened? Everything did not change suddenly, but little by little, and quite quietly... Your glances wandered after their eagerness and longing; your breast grew cold after its warmth and its shelter; your arms slackened after their firmness; all of you changed. You would grow angry at the least annoyance I caused you, and your voice would rise, commanding, complaining, terrifying the maid and stunning me... I needed no sixth sense to

know that some strange, intruding thing stood between me and you — or that I stood between you and it — a thing that differed from me, as I differed from it, in everything except in your need of us both... I was bewildered and anguished, like a stranger at a crossroads! How perplexity tormented me then! How I wanted to ask you — nay, to implore you, questioning:

"What has happened, Mother? Why are you other than what you were? Look at me: I am still as I am; I seek you as I did."

Then came that night, the night of wind and storm. My soul filled with terror and I ran to you, hesitant, and said timidly:

"I am afraid, Mama; let me sleep on your knee a little, until the thunder quiets."

You put down a stocking you had in your hand and opened your arms to me, laughing, eager; then a great joy swept over me and I threw myself into your embrace, weeping and laughing at once... Why did that hour not last for years and months? Why did I not pour out to you then all the love and eagerness and longing that filled my soul, and the fear of your drawing away from me? There came a knock at the door then, and you pushed me off you with some force, unaware of what you were doing... I looked at you in fear, questioning; then I lowered my eyelids when I saw the gleam in your eyes, and knew that that intruding thing lurked behind the door, waiting to come in. A wounded anger flared in me, and I looked at you again with a stubborn questioning, waiting for what you wished to say, my heart silently imploring you. You said:

"Run to your bed now; the storm will quiet down in a little while."

Then you left me and hurried to the door. I felt my way through my tears to my room and hid my body under the covers,

seeking cover and concealment... The storm did not quiet as you said, but grew in fury and reverberation... I listened to it, dazed and still, without fear or dread, for I was wrestling with a storm mightier and more dreadful than it, raging in my poor heart... I could not bear it, so I slipped from my bed and walked barefoot to the sitting room to discover that intruder. How I hated him, Mother, at that moment — him whom you loved — and how I hate him still! That broad, still face, and those cold, mocking eyes! He looked at me coldly and I looked at him in bewilderment. Then you saw me and gave a faint gasp; then you looked at him, and you looked at me, and we looked at you together. At that moment each of us saw in your face what he wished to see: he smiled, and I drew back, cold-limbed, groping for my way. You came after me, trying to hold me to you and make me understand something I could not understand. I ran, and covered my head with my hands to shut

Delsey — Luxury Toilet Paper

Perfectly soft, just like Kleenex

Delsey

Luxury toilet paper