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Great Women by Frank Anthony
 
     Are great women the wives of presidents and kings who do not know what to do with themselves? Or the grand dames who do not have husbands to look after any more? Are they the women who sit in famous chairs that were reserved for men? Or are they the ones who do not need muscle to make a
significant score?
     Actually nothing, of the fabric we call society, could be woven into patterns of woof and warp if it were not for the first lady who changes our diapers and feeds us before we can feed ourselves. The same ones who encourage us to be something bigger and better than their lives, the same ones who are there when others leave us.
     And there are the sisters of the soul in our hospitals who tend to wounds and frailty, who are there when we fear an unknown. They are also the unknown who care for different sick people every day, unhappy, suffering people who can be anything but pleasant in a predicament over which we have no control and find ourselves at the mercy of strangers in a hospital. More of this will become ordinary life in a society living on junk food.
     The unsung heroes are the thousands of women who keep our super markets running, who spend their lives serving the public day in and day out, with no recognition in local papers until their obituary. Yes, there are the women who are doctors, lawyers or preachers, but they are compensated with an income matching the profession and admired like men professionals are.
     There is another woman who is my hero of our society. She labors long hours for a bare bones salary and her job is usually in jeopardy. These unsung heroes of society either write or put words together for a living. More than the press corps of a famous newspaper, they are the faithful people whose interest in their community is the fabric of our life. From typewriter to computer they devote their lives to keep our stories straight. Forgotten after an unnoticed obituary, where would we be without the women who work with words and ideas?

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