A lovely poem

Once there were two women
who never knew each other.
One you do not remember,
the other you call Mother.
Two different lives
shaped to make you one.
One became your guiding star;
the other became your sun.
And now you ask me,
through your tears,
the age-old question
unanswered through the years.
Heredity or environment,
which are you a product of?
Neither, my darling. Neither.
Just two different kinds of love.

Unknown