Mother Earth, Mother Of Mine
An ode to mothers and caregivers everywhere.
When I see the word Mother, I always think of mine.
Sonnet- to my mother , - Edgar A. Poe
βBecause I feel that, in the heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of βmotherβ β
Therefore by that sweet name I long have called you β
You, who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you,
In setting my Virginiaβs spirit free.
My mother β my own mother β who died early β
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew;
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.β
When I was in the first grade, Someone asked me who my hero was- And at first I was going to pick my big sister, Someone who I had spent a great deal of time with in my younger years. After sitting at my desk for a considerable moment, I thought I may tell people that my hero was Hannah Montanna.. Then it hit me, My mom.
I was never a dumb child, I took many a glimpse at my mom and could recognize how hard she was working. I would sit and do my homework while she slaved over a stove and I knew that my mother was the one making all the magic.
Theres a quote in βBad Momβs 2β that says βMoms donβt do Joy, They Make Joyβ and I had looked over at my mother and asked her if it was true, She had only given me a nod in response. This was only about a year ago that we saw the movie, However long before my eyes were exposed to Mila Kunis acting drunk in the middle of a mall, I watched my mom play chef, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, Father, GrandMother, Grandpa, And Santa.
I knew that my mom was not a puppeteer but a master of creation, An artist- Someone who made a magical world for me to grow up in. My mother was my hero, And she has been since the day I realized she was a fairy godmother in disguise.
The day after my teacher had assigned us to dress up as hour heroes, I went to my mother and asked to borrow a shirt. In fact the very shirt Iβm wearing now as I sit in bed to write this ode to her and her bravery, Her hard work.
I often used her shirts as smocks in art class, So she wasnβt confused or opposed to me borrowing one of her raggedy cleaning shirts to get paint all over. However, I went to school with my hair in a ponytail, A grey T-Shirt with a radio station logo, Leggings and sneakers. I went into school dressed as my mother, And I was proud.
Many little girls came in as Wonder-Woman, Lucille Ball, Rosa Parks, Exc- But I walked into my classroom, And when my teacher asked me who I was, I proudly told everyone and anyone that I was dressed as βMy Mommyβ.
So many kids think of heroes and they think of Superman, Batman, Wonderwoman, But I think that people sometimes overlook the heroes that are right in front of them. I wonβt speak for the rest of the world, Not everyone has a mother like mine, Sometimes they have a dad, An Uncle, An Aunt or Neighbour who is willing to support them and be the hero that they deserve.
If you donβt have someone who is willing to jump buildings for you right now, I promise you that you will. However, If you arenβt the type to wait around for a hero, You can be your own.
About the Creator
πΊπππππ π³ππππππππ’ βΎ
π·ππ’! πΌπ’ ππππ ππ πΊπππππ πππ π π ππππ πππ’πππππ πππππ πππππ’πππππ. πΈ ππππ ππππππ πππ’ π±ππ ππ πππ ππ ππππππ.β’β₯οΈ
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