My Mother

A 4th grade Abigail wrote an article explaining how wonderful her mother is. She has serious and interesting reasons.

Do you have a wonderful person, have time with you and care about you, is it an important person? Well, I know that she has black hair, brown eyes, and a thoughtful feel. That is my mum

My mother talked to me a lot. One thing she told me was what happened when I grew up. She told me what to do in case of an emergency. One day, I had a very bad day with my friends.

My mother spent a lot of time with me. I play games, bake cookies, make necklaces, draw graffiti tricks. But what we want to do is reading. Our favorite book is when you give cookies to the mouse.

My mother took me for shopping. Buy toys and clothes, eat at the cafe. We will eat Chinese food or go to McDonald's restaurant. When we took the escalator, my mother pretended to retreat and said, "My shoelaces can not move".

My mother is always laughing When laughing, she sounds like hyena! She is not smiling everyday, but it's fun when you laugh, and I have to laugh!

My mother is the best. I like the way she is joking. Anyway, she is always very funny, she gave me a very good advice. My mother is more than just a mother, she is like my best friend!

For the sake of clarity, about my mother ... this is a book about my grandmother written by my mother. That's not about my mother, not about my mother - it is. In fact, about my mother ... About my mother, about my grandmother. In this sense, it is really a book about my "mother". But this is not the book I wrote. Yes, I wrote a preface, yes - I have clearly depicted that I have a copy of a book called "About my mother" (in the above picture ...) I wrote a book about my mother It does not mean that. I am different. This does not mean that my mother's book relates to her son. It's not. This is about my grandmother. And to make my mother understand

In five years since I lost my mother's cancer, I published a book about anti-social people who corresponded to the loss of my mother's cancer - before I knew about my mother's condition and death Written on - this is cold. Suddenly broken hearted. I can not read my first book, because I wrote this book when I was young, because the world is a black and white binary. When she died, the world became colorless. I do not believe in psychology, but after my mother died, I wanted an answer so I saw a mentally ill. I was sitting there listening to the story of a woman I read and wondering how much she lifted from the Internet until she told me the name of my mother's favorite song. Only I know this

This is the first Christmas after my mother died. This is all sad and terrible things you can imagine. My mother is having a Christmas at our house. My father tried it with me, but the emptiness that my mother is often standing is silly and huge. Like a safety blanket, sorrow is the mantra we are wearing. My father has never raised a girl. He does not know the role of sex and what is suitable for a 13 - year - old girl. Sometimes I think he thinks I am a short-lived adult. So he gave me - freedom, perfect independent consciousness, what I want to do, and acting according to my wishes. No, or do not do it