On the day when I was born, I probably saw my hero for the first time I opened my eyes. She was probably exhausted; sweat dripping as though she just went for a 42km run. She was one of the first to hear me cry when the surgeon slapped without mercy. My hero is my mother, Irene. She had done a heroic act in giving birth to me.
My mother has long hair that extends down to her shoulder blades. When she ties them, her hair bounces off her spine whenever she starts walking. Her hair is black, with a few strands of white hair. She wears spectacles with lens shaped like eggs but the spectacles never fail to slip down her nose, exposing part of her eyes. This makes her look like a lady who is far-sighted. She is easily recognized from far as she wears baggy garments. The clothes are probably more than 10 years old already but can still be worn. Just like how heroes hold on to some things dearly in their lives, her clothes seem to be the things which have some sentimental value in them.
Due to her baggy clothes, she has a habit of using both her palms to drag her sleeves up to her shoulders. Uncleanness is her nemesis. The heroes in movies always have their arch enemies. My mother is just like one of them, almost always holding on to her broom, her ‘sai’ and sweeping away any dust that she sees. Also, just like how heroes always try to save others albeit risking their lives, she believes in taking care of her child as her top priority. Whenever I go home late, she will wait for me until I stepped into the house before going to bed. Also, the food that she prepares for me is always ready when I reached home. My welfare is fully taken care of by this hero of mine.
I was once a harsh and violent boy in primary school, always fighting with my brothers and talking back to my mother. However, a terrible thing that I have done to my mother changed my life.
‘BANG!’ I threw the chair at my mother. It missed her by just a few inches. Like cars colliding with one another, I screamed and ordered her to shut up. She spoke calmly, telling me what I did wrong. However, her advice did not register into my brain. I was ‘brain dead’. Without warning, I grabbed an object violently and threw it at her. This time, it hit her head. My mind felt hollow for a moment. Bright red fluid flowed down her head like an erupting volcano.
It was then I realized that I had thrown a glass cup at her. She lost her footing for a second. I walked towards my mother. I felt empty and hot. I realized my mistake. However, she was not angry. Instead, she said calmly “Violence doesn’t solve the problem. It causes harm to both parties. Look at us right now. You don’t feel good, right? So do I.” I felt empty and regretful.
This incident sparked the change in me. Her words impacted me a lot. From then on, I never fought with my family or friends.
Without my mother, my life would probably be a totally different one. I will not be who I am now. She has been my hero since the day I was born. I admire her and am glad that she is my role model, my hero.