This I believe in the power of touch. My mom used to hug me everyday. The scent of her perfume never fails to make me feel like a baby once again.I love to cling to her and take a rest in her loving arms. This brings back the warmth and comfort that always heals my wounded heart.
Everyday, my world is a battle field. There is politics everywhere. Even between friends. Why do people always treat me as their opponent? Even though they are not talking, I can feel how hard they are trying to compete with me despite the friendly environment that they are showing. I am deeply hurt by these acts of the people that I call friends. I couldn’t see myself as an achiever. Rather, a plant that grew up in my mothers hands. A plant that is now almost like a tree. I once saw the place where achievers of my age go. It is lonely there. I was scared but my moms’ voice comforted me and touched my heart. Whenever a person attacks me from behind ,whenever I fall into the ground, her hand picks me up. Because of this, I am determined to work even harder to reach my dreams. All these in exchange of her rough hands from hard work. Rough hands that carried me when I was still young. Rough hands that used to fix my strangled hair. Those hands I couldn’t see anymore.
Now that I’m living all alone in this place. With all the competition in the battleground of life, I will endure. For my mama. I will endure. I miss my mama, I miss her so much. But I will stand strong because her rough hands never failed to touch me like a sandpaper that sharpen me all the way through. I became stronger and I know I can overcome all these difficulties. Because I believe in the power of touch.
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