my mother

The name of the mother, there should be a lot of names in Mandarin and the above words! And my favorite is to call "my mom". When I talk to other people, or when I talk to my brother, I like to add the words "my mom. . . or my mom" when I am When the mother is called "my mom," my heart is full of pride. Because I feel that "my mother" is the privilege that belongs to me only.

Mother has been very hard. Because my family was far away from school, my mother was afraid that I would go back and forth when I was tired. I arranged for me to eat at the small table. It can be said that my mother had to work hard to find a small table that was close to the school and did not have to cross the road. She always worried about me. I am afraid that I am dangerous or not eating outside. So, every night I go home, my mother will make a good meal, and when I eat, I will always fill my bowl.

Mother is so frugal. Looking through my wardrobe and looking at the shoe rack, I can say that I am a "rich" at home. Mother never suffers from her embarrassment because of her life. In fact, she has suffered herself.

During the winter vacation, I went to the hospital for surgery because of a left hand ganglion cyst. It was my mother who was busy with me. She gave me the operating room with encouragement and gentle gaze, and when I carried the left hand wrapped in gauze and the upper body only came out with a thin shirt, the mother lifted the head buried in her arms. I saw her crying, her soft eyes staring at me, making the wound in my hand hurt. My mom always told me to be brave and optimistic when I was in trouble; in fact, she has always been very vulnerable. It can be said that during my hospital stay, my mother has not slept well. She helped me to see the bottle, the water to the anti-inflammatory drugs, and take care of me to go to the bathroom, and I was tired of a rich one.

Mother always loves me very much. Although her temper is not very good, she has been silent, never complained. Sometimes I am embarrassed, or I am a little disobedient in adolescence, and I quarrel with her. Every time I "win", I secretly find that every time I quarrel with my mother, my mother will have some guilt, she always gently in the room. Cried in the air. At this time, my heart will be as painful as a knife cut, regret and self-blame come to my heart, only to understand that to understand my mother, but found that it is too late.

Mom, I will not use gorgeous words to describe your appearance, only use clumsy pens to interpret the maternal love that you have dedicated to me over the years. I just want to say: "Mom, I love you! If there is an afterlife, I will be your mother and take care of you with my life!"

The third day: Mao Chunling