Mother, please come hold me in your arms. I need to be plucked from the thorns like a flower separated from the weeds, like a lily among the brush. Turn my sorrow into joy adorned by a crown of leaves, adorned by the green beauty of creation.

Brother, You are the Sharon among thorns, the lily of the valley, and the ever-green branch. Make me beautiful-mind, body, and soul-as a flowering garden of everlasting life.

Father, graft all our branches together. Let us flourish together with new growth. May new shoots always grow, all old plucked away.