She is the person who carefully carry me in her womb for 9 months without complain.
She defy her life , goes through a second to dead for me so that I could be born to this world. And when I was born and cried, she forget her pain and hold me dear in her arm and smile at me.
While my father sleep peacefully at night, she would stay awake to check if I was ok.
She feed me from her body, never allow me left hungry.
When I couldn't sleep, she sang me to sleep with her sweet lullaby.
And no matter how ugly I am, she would call me her sweet baby.
And love me unconditionally no matter how odd I was from other children.
She feels no loathe to wipe my runny nose.
She taught me how to eat from my own plate not that because she don't want to feed me now but to show I was growing up. She dressed me when I wasn't able and put her thumb up to say I was handsome in her eyes.
I came home from school with my uniform splattered with mud but she don't mind welcoming me with an open arms, hug me tight and ask how my day at school was.
She happily washed me dirty clothes without complaint because she knew her naughty boy did want to play in the dirt.
She cooks my favourite meal and when I ask her to tell a story at bedtime, she would began her story with caressing my hairs and continue until I couldn't hear her. I would fall asleep then.
When I became a naughty boy, she taught me how I should behave.
She told me that I wasn't from a naughty lineage.
When I yelled at her over things not getting, she would told me that patience is the best remedy to be a good boy.
When I grow old enough to know between good and bad, sometime I'd break her heart out of anger and failed to appreciate the sacrifice she had made for me.
Now I'm here still haven't done anything for her. I couldn't even remember the time I thank her for everything.
She had often told me in my early years that what she pleased most is seeing me doing a good thing.
And becoming a man of good nature is the reward she would receive from raising me up.
But I often gone sliding down the hill doing bad things and busy with my peers refusing to help her when she needed me.
I couldn't do anything for her yesterday.
Tomorrow I could become a man with a wife, too busy with my own family leaving my mother alone.
I have no guarantee I would do anything for her tomorrow. I cannot trust myself I would be her adoring child which she once have when I was a baby because I cannot trust myself I would surely pleased her with the good deed the world demand.
But....
But I have TODAY.
a special day
to appreciate her,
To thank her,
To honour her,
On her day...
What is stopping me?
She defy her life , goes through a second to dead for me so that I could be born to this world. And when I was born and cried, she forget her pain and hold me dear in her arm and smile at me.
While my father sleep peacefully at night, she would stay awake to check if I was ok.
She feed me from her body, never allow me left hungry.
When I couldn't sleep, she sang me to sleep with her sweet lullaby.
And no matter how ugly I am, she would call me her sweet baby.
And love me unconditionally no matter how odd I was from other children.
She feels no loathe to wipe my runny nose.
She taught me how to eat from my own plate not that because she don't want to feed me now but to show I was growing up. She dressed me when I wasn't able and put her thumb up to say I was handsome in her eyes.
I came home from school with my uniform splattered with mud but she don't mind welcoming me with an open arms, hug me tight and ask how my day at school was.
She happily washed me dirty clothes without complaint because she knew her naughty boy did want to play in the dirt.
She cooks my favourite meal and when I ask her to tell a story at bedtime, she would began her story with caressing my hairs and continue until I couldn't hear her. I would fall asleep then.
When I became a naughty boy, she taught me how I should behave.
She told me that I wasn't from a naughty lineage.
When I yelled at her over things not getting, she would told me that patience is the best remedy to be a good boy.
When I grow old enough to know between good and bad, sometime I'd break her heart out of anger and failed to appreciate the sacrifice she had made for me.
Now I'm here still haven't done anything for her. I couldn't even remember the time I thank her for everything.
She had often told me in my early years that what she pleased most is seeing me doing a good thing.
And becoming a man of good nature is the reward she would receive from raising me up.
But I often gone sliding down the hill doing bad things and busy with my peers refusing to help her when she needed me.
I couldn't do anything for her yesterday.
Tomorrow I could become a man with a wife, too busy with my own family leaving my mother alone.
I have no guarantee I would do anything for her tomorrow. I cannot trust myself I would be her adoring child which she once have when I was a baby because I cannot trust myself I would surely pleased her with the good deed the world demand.
But....
But I have TODAY.
a special day
to appreciate her,
To thank her,
To honour her,
On her day...
What is stopping me?
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