Essay on My Mother

My mother is the most important person in my life. She is the first to wake up in our house and the last to go to bed. She prepares our breakfast and tiffin, gets us ready for school and still reaches her own work on time. In the evening she sits with me while I do my homework and listens to everything that happened in school. When I am ill, she stays awake by my side. She is kind, but she is also firm. If I tell a lie or waste food, she corrects me at once and then explains why it was wrong. She has taught me to respect elders, to share and to be honest. I cannot repay what she does for me, but I can help her at home and make her proud.

It is said that God could not be everywhere, and so he made mothers. I understand the meaning of this line when I look at my own mother. She is my first teacher, my first friend and my greatest support.

My mother's day begins before the sun rises. By the time I open my eyes, breakfast is ready, my uniform is ironed and my tiffin is packed. She manages the kitchen, the house and the needs of every member of the family. Many mothers also go out to work, and they do all this before and after office. I often wonder where she gets so much energy from, because I have never heard her say that she is tired of us.

She takes a deep interest in my studies. She does not do my homework for me, but she sits near me and makes sure I do it. When I do not understand something, she explains it patiently, with examples from daily life. She comes to every parent-teacher meeting and remembers the names of all my friends.

My mother is loving, but she does not spoil me. She has clear rules: speak the truth, finish what is on your plate, keep your things in place, and never be rude to anyone, whether it is a guest or a helper. When I break a rule, she is strict. Later she holds my hand and tells me why she was angry. I have learnt more about right and wrong from her than from any book.

She is also the nurse of the house. When anyone falls ill, she is the one who remembers the medicines and stays awake at night. When I am afraid or sad, a few minutes with her make me feel safe again.

A mother asks for nothing in return. The least I can do is to help her with small tasks, listen to her, and never hurt her with harsh words. I want to grow up into the kind of person she hopes I will be. That will be my real thanks to her.