Stepping out of the clinic into the broad daylight, tears ran down her face. She had actually done it. She had an abortion. She climbed into the back seat of the family station wagon and listened to the silence. What had she done?
When most girls write about their mothers they talk about how wonderful of a childhood they had being raised by such a great woman. They talk about her accomplishments and how they want to grow up and be just like her. They talk about the soup sick babble that every “perfect” family has to offer. When I write about my mother, I speak of the pain, the fears, the learning and the salvation. My Mother has been a great inspiration to me. She is my hero. Not because of the wonderful things she has done. Not because of the marvelous childhood I was given and certainly not because of her upbringing. My Mother is my hero because she was led down a path of destruction, but with God’s grace and mercy she was pulled from her perils; and blessed.
As the youngest of five children she was often overlooked. The pride of the family often overrode the opportunity to receive heath care, handouts and a decent chance to become something. My mother spent her childhood in a tiny house with her family and many relatives. She was never given the opportunities to excel in learning and life like my generation has. My grandfather was a carpenter and on that living fed many hungry mouths. But despite this already unfortunate lifestyle my mother maintained good grades and was on a path to overcoming her misfortune.
When she was sixteen my mother met and got pregnant by a boy that she attended school with. Ashamed and spiritually broken she gave into to her parents pleading to have an abortion.
As time passed she grew older and wiser. She graduated high school and began working several jobs. Attending college was never a thought in her mind. She married young and moved on with her life. Eventually she became pregnant again, but his time she was ready. By now God had strengthened her life. She believed in him and sought is will. She had been given a second chance. To this day my mother is a strong and charismatic woman, full of God’s love and joy for life. She is my hero because I have learned so much from her. I have learned to always seek God and his will first on my life. I have learned that with hard work and dedication one can achieve their dreams. For my Mother, her dreams were to have a loving family and children. God blessed her with the desires of her heart.
As I approach this new segment of my life I know that whatever God has planned for me will lead me to a place where I can grow both spiritually and academically. My Mother is my hero because she has showed me the power of perseverance and Faith. I will be the first girl on my mother’s side to attend college, and the first of my immediate family to go above and beyond today’s worldly expectations. My Mother has given me wings to fly and Christ has given me hope for a new tomorrow. With these gifts and my own dedication I know I will achieve my dreams. Some may say they love their mothers. But I will forever say I adore her courage, strength, inner beauty, cheer and love. She has been my inspiration to remain pure and wait for marriage. She has given me so much strength and care. Love is not a big enough word to encompass my feelings for her. She is my hero, my determination. She is my Mother.
