Since I was born, I lived close to the maternal side. So I grew up under my mother’s protection. Day by day, my mother and grandmother always carried me with them to the market for shopping. I still remember many rainy afternoons; my mother and I together returning home on an old bicycle and her covering me with the thin raincoat. When I got sick, she took care of me constantly. In the middle of the night, suddenly waking up, I would see her thin body sitting, nodding by my small bed. At those times, I thought about her so much, as well as my future and her life.
She worked hard all day, and then she should again take care of me at night. She gave me every drop of love she had, as well as strictly educating me. Every time I was shameless or disobeyed her, she always gave me straight advice. When she hit me it made me feel angry, but after thinking about it I realised my mistakes – I was wrong because I did not listen to her and was angry with her.
My family, at that time, had a very difficult life. Before buying anything, my mother had to calculate the cost. But to a child like me, that was meaningless. I just asked for presents, and if I lost my toys, I asked her for new ones. At that time, I really did not know that a pair of cloths was worth lots of hulled rice. Afterwards, as I grew up a little bit, I understood that my mother was careful to sew any of my clothes late at night. My heart suddenly rose up full of emotion.
My mother is a good cook. Her dishes are very delicious. When I think of the good food, it usually makes me feel homesick whenever I am far away from home. Besides that, she gave me food for my mind when I had problems. In the past, my mother used to be a skilful person and my clothes all came from her own hands. Now, she is no longer skilful but I still like the clothes she made for me before, because they contained a kind of love that I always dreamt about.
Now, her age is written clearly on her face. Her health is also weaker and white hair has appeared too much, so she cannot sew or make food anymore. Many times I think of that, my inner self is desolate, but those are just fugitive thoughts in my mind. Although I am now mature and having left my mother’s arms many years ago, the memory about us together stays in my mind forever.
For me, my mother is everything I have – she is “my wings” and “the light of my life.” Furthermore, she is the best, wonderful and respectable friend that should be lived on forever in my mind. I am now exerting myself to study as a gift I want to express my thanks for all the work that she did for me.
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