From Chicken Soup for the Mother's Soul

I’d Rather

I’d rather be a mother

Than anyone on earth

Bringing up a child or two

Of unpretentious birth.

I’d rather nurse a rosy babe

With warm lips on my breast

Than wear a queen’s medallion

Above a heart less blest.

I’d rather tuck a little child

All safe and sound in bed—

Than twine a chain of diamonds

About my foolish head.

I’d rather wash a smudgy face

With round, bright baby eyes—

Than paint the pageantry of fame,

Or walk among the wise.

Meredith Gray

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