$Local Network Broadcast Publishing™ ($LNBP™)

Born somewhere on a kraal near Butterworth, she was poorly and lowly in stature. # ButHerWorth  was always divine. By her breast she fed three babs. By her sweat she raised them. Through teary eyes she watched each succumb to the weight of the world. They were black. They were poor. They were lowly in stature. She was their mother, they her heart. Somewhere on a kraal near a place called #Butterworth. But her worth is immeasurable, the first child thought. One night in a cell, he lay on a filthy mattress and sobbed as he recalled his mother's sorrow when he called to tell her his fate. He felt she deserved better. But her worth is in her ability to see only the perfection in her children's eyes. He died that night in that cell. A nose. A snap. But her worth in him remained divine. Her divinity coursed through the veins of her second heir; a daughter. She grew to be fair and true to the Lord. Her only flaw was that she felt she was not ready. She bore

Krishna:   "Surely to imagine the best for oneself is all right. Surely the very best of us lies behind the material. Surely behind the make-up, and the labels, and the bling and the smokey mirrors there lies a beautiful smile which only wants to be seen. Material is a really easy cheat code to the good life. But that good life is an illusion. Heaven is right here on earth. The streets are paved with potential which is turned into reality with mere thoughts. Providence will provide. You simply have to believe in the best fantasy character there is in all of existence: YOU."