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When I was a child and had any kind of pain, my mother used to tell me “Breathe darling, and relax.” She would hold me and stroke my whatever-was-hurting part and sing a little song for me. When I fell on my knee, the song would go:
“Heal, heal little knee,
behind the mountain lives a man who can heal all little knees.
It’s gone now.
It’s gone now,