No word of the following can describe her. Nor all the sentenses in all over the world. Indeed, she is more than a woman, her touch, her words, her eyes, her feeling, here love, all are different. Mum is more than a word. I can't give enough words that fully describe this human being, who carries inside her a merciful hear, I can't find any heart like it. I can remember how she brought me up, when I was a child, I can remember that heart,which helped me how to know the life, how to know the meaning of hope, of love! I can remember that kind hand, which was close to me, with her touch, I feel that the whole world is mine! If I say that she is a moon, then I'm wrong, actually, the moon may disapear, and go away, but my mother, will never ever disapear any way! If I say that she is a flower, I'm also wrong, actually the flowers contain some thorns, but my mother doesn't! So I can call her: ALL MY LIFE! So, when she disapears, I'll disapear too and I'll die quickly after her!
Who drest my doll in clothes so gay,
And taught me pretty how to play,
And minded all I had to say?
Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother. Who taught my infant lips to pray,
And love God's holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom's pleasant way?