This I Believe

Yong - Santa Maria, California
Entered on July 3, 2007
Age Group: 18 - 30
Themes: family, love
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I believed in mother’s warm touch. When I was a little kid, I had no fear against anything as if I believed that I was invincible. Because of that I have always done stupid stuff, which only little kids do and eventually ended up hurting myself. Whenever this happened to me, I have always cried and went back home for some comfort and to get some cure to lessen the damage that I inflicted upon myself. My parents would always say to me “That is the way the boys grow at their age, and you’re a boy just like any other,” so I had no problem with going home with the injury. By the time I entered the house, I would always erase the marks of crying, because of my parents’ other words that follows “Being a male, you are not to cry at all the cost,” and this I feared as I was afraid of my fathers wraith. As I entered the house, my mom would always look at me with a worried look on her face and started to aid my injured spot. Many times, I got worried that it would hurt even more as she touches it, but those worries soon disappeared as her warm hands and kisses met the spot. Even though I could see the injuries, the pain soon disappeared and would completely heal as it was not even there at all.

Times have gone by and now I have grown in to my late-teen age years, and I now know better what to do and what not to do. Yet, I still feel those warm touches of my mother. Early in the morning, my mother would always enter my room and kneel down right next to my bed. Every day she would enter the room and pray for me as she holds my deadly cold hand. Every time she enters the room, I wake up, but keep my eyes close so she doesn’t notice that I am awake. I would always hear my mom pray for me and bless me for the day. Every day I notice her warm touch transfers only not only to my hands, but also heats my heart as she express her love to me. This is the primary source that I use to fuel myself to spend that very day: my mother’s touch.

For this I believe in mother’s warm touch. I believe in the power of warmth from parents. It is the infinitive power source that heats anyone’s heart and calms anyone’s mind at the same time. Her hand may be wrinkle as she grows old with time, but her touches will be never forgiven from my memory.