Archimedes once said: “Give me a place to stand on, and I will move the Earth.” Archimedes was referring to the lever and force in physics. However, for me, if I could move the Earth, it would be my mother who gave that place for me to stand on. For me to move the earth I rely on the structure my mother has provided for me since my childhood. To me, my mother is my foundation and my firm ground.
When I was little, she always told me of her own childhood and inculcated me with a strong sense of morality. She taught me the value and honor in keeping a promise, saying, “A promise is a promise.” Yes, it is, and she never broke one. Growing up, she told me that because I am a woman it is important to learn how to be independent and self-sufficient. She showed me that, although I will one day be in a relationship, it is important not to become too dependent on another person. No one can accompany the other forever. She set a shining example for me. She is my mother.
Along with teaching me the value of promises and self-reliance, she also taught me the value of hard work. I remember the smell of the soap as she scrubbed her hands. The strong scent of the industrial strength soap removed the combination of food odors and oil from beneath her hardened fingernails and calloused hands. I can still see the greyish water in the basin after she had cleaned her hands. Fearing her hard work was prematurely aging her, she asked me to cut off her newly growing white hair. While cutting, I am counting her white hairs, “one, two, three, …, fifty,…” She feels it is endless for me to finish cutting off all her white hairs. Then she ends up buying a dyeing comb and brushing her white hair. But what she teaches me is not vanity; rather, she teaches me that a fulfilled life is a result of constant hard work. She is my mother.
She works so hard that she sacrifices most of her weekends. She has been working in restaurants for 13 years. It is a job that pays a decent wage if she is willing to work 12-hour days, six days a week. Knowing that she does not have much time to enjoy herself, I buy her small presents once in a while. On occasion, I bring my mother a bunch of carnations and on Mother’s day a card saying “Happy Mother’s Day” to the restaurant where she is working. I yearn to see her radiate with unconcealed happiness. However, I cannot understand why some customers treat such a hard-working woman with patronizing attitudes. To them she is “waitress” and “you” and “hey!” But to me, she is not. She is my mother.
Regardless of how others may treat her, she cares how she treats others. Although she is short and slight, she has the strength to protect me. She is also powerful, and powerful enough to cry when she feels the need. She wept when she left for America. At that time, I was ten years old, and I was confused about her crying. She saw the apprehension on my face. Kissing me and holding my hands, she told me not to get cold and to put on more clothes in cold weather. Half a year later, after she settled down, I received her phone call. She had called me once a week since then and never missed one. She is my mother.
I remember her euphoria when my sister was accepted into one of the best universities. Then I determined secretly to enter a good college like my sister to make my mother proud of me as well. I was happy when I received an award in Chemistry last spring (2012), but my mother was uncomfortable attending the Honors Convocation in QCC. She took so many photographs and did not understand the English that was spoken at the Honors Convocation. However, all that concerned this unknown woman was that her daughter would not follow her footsteps. “Do you know why I work such long hours?’ she asked me. “So that you won’t have to.” She is my mother.
She sacrifices her precious weekends to working in order to let me have time and money to enjoy myself. She cannot afford to go on vacations and dine out like other mothers. She just does not have enough money. She stays on her own, works long hours and lives on leftovers in the restaurant. She cannot afford to spend money on luxuries. However, she spends her precious time and energy on my sisters and me so that we can have a little luxury sometimes. We feel embarrassed when we ring her about having big dinners outside. We tell her how much we wish we could be together having delicious food even though sometimes she is too busy to pick up the call. She is my mother.
When I ask my mother what kind of son-in-law she would like me to marry, this ordinary yet extraordinary woman says very little: “Find someone who can love you more than I love you.” She knows she has to leave me one day and that no one can accompany me forever. She wants me to find someone who can replace her and continue to provide me with the foundation and firm ground she has given me.
One day I will be a mother, and I will be the foundation and firm ground for my children. I will continue the love my mother has given me, and I will pass it on to my children. I will let my children be themselves as my mother has let me be myself. And who knows, by giving my children what my mother has given me might prove me worthy of my own children one day saying, “She is my mother”.
©2013 Yueting Chen
When I was little, she always told me of her own childhood and inculcated me with a strong sense of morality. She taught me the value and honor in keeping a promise, saying, “A promise is a promise.” Yes, it is, and she never broke one. Growing up, she told me that because I am a woman it is important to learn how to be independent and self-sufficient. She showed me that, although I will one day be in a relationship, it is important not to become too dependent on another person. No one can accompany the other forever. She set a shining example for me. She is my mother.
Along with teaching me the value of promises and self-reliance, she also taught me the value of hard work. I remember the smell of the soap as she scrubbed her hands. The strong scent of the industrial strength soap removed the combination of food odors and oil from beneath her hardened fingernails and calloused hands. I can still see the greyish water in the basin after she had cleaned her hands. Fearing her hard work was prematurely aging her, she asked me to cut off her newly growing white hair. While cutting, I am counting her white hairs, “one, two, three, …, fifty,…” She feels it is endless for me to finish cutting off all her white hairs. Then she ends up buying a dyeing comb and brushing her white hair. But what she teaches me is not vanity; rather, she teaches me that a fulfilled life is a result of constant hard work. She is my mother.
She works so hard that she sacrifices most of her weekends. She has been working in restaurants for 13 years. It is a job that pays a decent wage if she is willing to work 12-hour days, six days a week. Knowing that she does not have much time to enjoy herself, I buy her small presents once in a while. On occasion, I bring my mother a bunch of carnations and on Mother’s day a card saying “Happy Mother’s Day” to the restaurant where she is working. I yearn to see her radiate with unconcealed happiness. However, I cannot understand why some customers treat such a hard-working woman with patronizing attitudes. To them she is “waitress” and “you” and “hey!” But to me, she is not. She is my mother.
Regardless of how others may treat her, she cares how she treats others. Although she is short and slight, she has the strength to protect me. She is also powerful, and powerful enough to cry when she feels the need. She wept when she left for America. At that time, I was ten years old, and I was confused about her crying. She saw the apprehension on my face. Kissing me and holding my hands, she told me not to get cold and to put on more clothes in cold weather. Half a year later, after she settled down, I received her phone call. She had called me once a week since then and never missed one. She is my mother.
I remember her euphoria when my sister was accepted into one of the best universities. Then I determined secretly to enter a good college like my sister to make my mother proud of me as well. I was happy when I received an award in Chemistry last spring (2012), but my mother was uncomfortable attending the Honors Convocation in QCC. She took so many photographs and did not understand the English that was spoken at the Honors Convocation. However, all that concerned this unknown woman was that her daughter would not follow her footsteps. “Do you know why I work such long hours?’ she asked me. “So that you won’t have to.” She is my mother.
She sacrifices her precious weekends to working in order to let me have time and money to enjoy myself. She cannot afford to go on vacations and dine out like other mothers. She just does not have enough money. She stays on her own, works long hours and lives on leftovers in the restaurant. She cannot afford to spend money on luxuries. However, she spends her precious time and energy on my sisters and me so that we can have a little luxury sometimes. We feel embarrassed when we ring her about having big dinners outside. We tell her how much we wish we could be together having delicious food even though sometimes she is too busy to pick up the call. She is my mother.
When I ask my mother what kind of son-in-law she would like me to marry, this ordinary yet extraordinary woman says very little: “Find someone who can love you more than I love you.” She knows she has to leave me one day and that no one can accompany me forever. She wants me to find someone who can replace her and continue to provide me with the foundation and firm ground she has given me.
One day I will be a mother, and I will be the foundation and firm ground for my children. I will continue the love my mother has given me, and I will pass it on to my children. I will let my children be themselves as my mother has let me be myself. And who knows, by giving my children what my mother has given me might prove me worthy of my own children one day saying, “She is my mother”.
©2013 Yueting Chen