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My mother is sixty-three years old, and for the last forty year she has been the village doctor. She has a small clinic that she prepares medicine and treats small injuries, and also sells canned powder milk. Our house has people in and out at all hours of the day and night. The villagers always like to come to her clinic to see the doctor and to meet their neighbors, too. Almost all the villagers come to my mother when their baby is due. My mother is very good at predicting the day the baby will come. Sometimes my mother will not get enough sleep if the babies come late at night or early in the morning. There are special rooms for the mother and baby, and usually they stay at the doctor's house about twenty-four hours. We always like to see the new babies get their first bath because they look so red and small. All the village people know and trust my mother because she is such a quiet, kind, and experienced friend of theirs.
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My mother
In my eyes, my mother is the most beautiful woman in the world. She has typical Asian features: yellow skin and black hair, but what catches the attention of people is her eyes. Her eyes are as clear and bright as the night sky, and whenever she smileds, they would glow up and shine like a million twinkling stars. Nobody could possibly stay angry or depressed under such a smile, and even a heart of stone would crumble under her shine.
She is also the gentlest person alive. Once, when I scraped my knee by accident, she flew like a wirlwind to my side, and took out a piece of alcohol swab to clean the cut. It stung like I was being bit by a bee, so she started blowing the red rash on my knee. The light gust of wind coming out of her mouth soothed the pain, and suddenly I had the courage to stand up again. I looked up into her eyes, eyes filled with concentration and gentleness.
I love my mother for all that she has given me, and always will.
In my eyes, my mother is the most beautiful woman in the world. She has typical Asian features: yellow skin and black hair, but what catches the attention of people is her eyes. Her eyes are as clear and bright as the night sky, and whenever she smileds, they would glow up and shine like a million twinkling stars. Nobody could possibly stay angry or depressed under such a smile, and even a heart of stone would crumble under her shine.
She is also the gentlest person alive. Once, when I scraped my knee by accident, she flew like a wirlwind to my side, and took out a piece of alcohol swab to clean the cut. It stung like I was being bit by a bee, so she started blowing the red rash on my knee. The light gust of wind coming out of her mouth soothed the pain, and suddenly I had the courage to stand up again. I looked up into her eyes, eyes filled with concentration and gentleness.
I love my mother for all that she has given me, and always will.
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