Who is the best mother in the world? My mother is! She helps with everything in the house. She cooks and cleans like every other mother but she is the one I can count on the most. She also inspires me and teaches me about how the world outside can be more difficult than you think it actually is. There are times when my mother needs me the most and I try to be there for her every step of the way. So then it is my turn to be a mother towards her. Having a relationship with your mother is the best

My mother is my inspiration and role model in life. She has always been there to guide me and help me be the best I could possibly be. She got me through my worst and was my biggest fan when I was at my best. There was never a time that she put me done and made me feel like I was any less than what I was. I look at my mother seeing how successful she is and was when she was younger and I could only wish to achieve as much as she did. She works herself through college and found herself a gr

Out of the handful of influential women in my life, I have chosen to write about my grandmother. She was there of me on the day of my birth and is still there for me today. She means the world to me and I do not know what I would do without her. Being on the upper side of the scale of age, I must take advantage of the time I have left with her knowing that every minute is to be treasured. She is like a mother to me the way she displays her love for me through her servant’s heart is like

My mother is a strong woman. My mother is the mother of four children, including triplets. What makes my mother a strong woman is being able to support and be active in our daily lives with four children. My mother is a strong woman because she always makes sure her children are staying on task, staying out of trouble, and are maintain a healthy diet. My mother is a strong woman because she even shares her love towards everyone in our family, putting her children her main priority on a daily ba

This may be blunt but, when I was four years old my mom died of breast cancer. I didn't know she was sick. I didn't know that it wasn't "normal" for other kids mom's to not stay home from work because they hurt. My mom's stomach would swell out and make her almost look pregnant sometimes because her kidneys just stopped working. Her hair started falling out and I thought that was normal too. I didn't know what was happening at all. I was a clueless child with fragments of memories. I remember

Dear Mom,
Sometimes, I enjoy closing my eyes and simply listening to your sighs and the occasional sizzle of the pan as crisp shallots meander their way into the crackling pool of oil. The little noises in life; even the soft clucking of your tongue as you write checks to the bank, are songs to me. Some people think that I'm crazy, but what these people don't understand is that the obsession with music derives entirely from your six o'clock cello lessons.
It's definitely not the color

Matt Messina
Mrs. Malone
English 9 Pre-IB, Period 3
15 May 2013
Letter to Mom: Caring
Dear Mom,
First off, I love you. You are the nicest person I have ever met and the most caring too. You are always there for me when I need help with something or if I am in a difficult situation. You always help me with my homework and remind me to do things when I forget. It is amazing how you can remember everything. You are very organized and always on top of things and I lo

With each breath I take,
The walls close in.
With each step I take,
The lights grow dim.
A deep breath in,
As I pierce through skin.
The blood brings release,
To the demons within.
I begin to panic,
My breath gets caught.
The blood begins to slow,
And the demons start to laugh.
I soon realize I've fallen,
Into their trap.
But I guess it's,
Just another relapse...

Letter to Mom: The Fighter

My mom can’t be replaced or switched out. She is her amazing self, with a personality that makes you feel happy. My mom is a fighter, and she will win everyday. My mom had breast cancer in 2009, which was the lowest point of our lives. She had no strength or hope. She just was hoping to get home in time every night to see us and help us with our homework. She wanted to be the one there to sign our best and worst test grades, even though she was at the hos

She needs not rose-colored glasses, for she has rose colored eyes. Eyes that beseech the civility in tarnished souls, eyes that view the spectrum of our imperfect and sadistic world as if it were a Ferris wheel gone round and round in boundless amusement. Her thoughts as good-natured as a child’s; her words as sweet as honeysuckle. Her helping hands as indomitable as two; her heart as vast as the world itself. She is my mother and she is everything; the ginger sun rays and the dusk of dawn, the