My angel

         You might wonder who is my angel? Of course i am proud to say out loud that my angel is my mother.

My mother is the most beautiful woman alive and nothing compares with her. Even if she was unlike the celebrity mothers who wear designer clothes and do not get out to eat in fancy restaurants all the time, my mother is very real. My mother was small or petite, but she was a formidable foe if you cross her.  I loved the way she combed her hair getting ready for bed , letting  those blonde locks loose and shiny against the glare of the overhead light.  I loved the way she would  lovingly wipe my back for perspiration after playing under  the hot sun all afternoon not minding the fact that I smelled like a baseball glove worn for two seasons.  On the incidents that my siblings and I cross my mother, those big green eyes of her would squint in disapproval, mouth pursed.  But I came to love that about her.  When those green eyes do start to squint, it means I have done something wrong. 

My mother is very protective of me that often times I resented her for being so.  I did not understand why she has to  constantly ask about my whereabouts: who I am going with and where I was going.  It never occurred to me that this was an essential part of being a mother.  A mother cares and worries for her children.  Mother taught me that  getting reprimanded does not mean that she loves me less.  On the contrary, she showed me that when she scolds me, it means that she cares for me and worries about me. 

She has her own flaws too.  But for me, these flaws are just tiny imperfections that makes her all the more lovable and perfect.  These flaws are just evidences of her humanity.  Mother is an angel who teaches us to fly and dream.
         I love my mother very much. 

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