I understand this is slightly short (only 331 words), but am flummoxed as to how to lengthen it. Any critique, no matter how scathing is much appreciated.
Thank you!
The first thing you notice about her is her smile, always ready, willing. The second thing you notice are her eyes, beautiful comforting, engaging eyes. The thing I notice first are her hands, skilled, marginally arthritic, loving, occasionally chastising, but always gentle, hands. Hands that coddled me as a baby, nurtured cuts as a child, and applauded as a teenager. Hands that have pushed me on swings, bikes, into countless bodies of water. From an early age she taught me to engage, and seek out answers to the problems that puzzle me, rather than turning to someone else to give me the answers. She read with me, every day, every hour it seemed, of my youth. Together we devoured children's books, not so children's books, dictionaries large and small. Through her work, she was able to take me to the farthest corners of the earth, from Tierra Del Fuego, to the interior of Iceland. Through her prodding touch, I was exposed to glaciers, oceans, ancient monasteries, and the Tokyo fish market (at three in the morning). Through her encouragement, I found Drama, Debate, Music, the activities I love most. Through her love, I found myself. I am utterly convinced I would not be half the "young adult" I am today without her.
Curiosity, empathy, the ability to sense an individual's sorrows, these are not innate qualities, but learned skills that must be tended with care within the soul of an individual, in the way a skilled gardener tends to a greenhouse full of orchids. If given too much encouragement, too much water, praise, promise, they wilt. If given too little, the ground cracks and heaves from want of water, and the orchids die. Through good and bad my mother has been by my side; through an alienated childhood, a rocky divorce, and a thriving late adolescence she has been there, offering guidance, love, and comfort food. She has the greenest thumb of anyone I have ever met. And I love her.
Thank you!
The first thing you notice about her is her smile, always ready, willing. The second thing you notice are her eyes, beautiful comforting, engaging eyes. The thing I notice first are her hands, skilled, marginally arthritic, loving, occasionally chastising, but always gentle, hands. Hands that coddled me as a baby, nurtured cuts as a child, and applauded as a teenager. Hands that have pushed me on swings, bikes, into countless bodies of water. From an early age she taught me to engage, and seek out answers to the problems that puzzle me, rather than turning to someone else to give me the answers. She read with me, every day, every hour it seemed, of my youth. Together we devoured children's books, not so children's books, dictionaries large and small. Through her work, she was able to take me to the farthest corners of the earth, from Tierra Del Fuego, to the interior of Iceland. Through her prodding touch, I was exposed to glaciers, oceans, ancient monasteries, and the Tokyo fish market (at three in the morning). Through her encouragement, I found Drama, Debate, Music, the activities I love most. Through her love, I found myself. I am utterly convinced I would not be half the "young adult" I am today without her.
Curiosity, empathy, the ability to sense an individual's sorrows, these are not innate qualities, but learned skills that must be tended with care within the soul of an individual, in the way a skilled gardener tends to a greenhouse full of orchids. If given too much encouragement, too much water, praise, promise, they wilt. If given too little, the ground cracks and heaves from want of water, and the orchids die. Through good and bad my mother has been by my side; through an alienated childhood, a rocky divorce, and a thriving late adolescence she has been there, offering guidance, love, and comfort food. She has the greenest thumb of anyone I have ever met. And I love her.
