Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers around the world

A letter to all mothers in the world
In our lifetime, the most familiar name is “Mom,” and the most easily overlooked figure is also a mother’s figure.
We always remember that when we were little and we fell and got hurt, the first person we went to was her; when we felt wronged, our tears would be the first thing to fall onto the corner of her clothes. We treat her embrace as a forever safe haven, her reminders as nagging we can casually brush off—yet we forget that she was once also a little girl who was afraid of the dark, who would scream when she saw insects, and who would cry when she was wronged. It is because she became a mother that she put on armor, hiding all her softness behind her.
Later, when we grew up and carried our bags to go farther away, she stood at the road intersection waving her hand. She didn’t say she missed us—she only said, “The food at home is always warm.” When we share good news and not bad, she is the same: when she was sick she hid it, when she was worn out she didn’t say a word, and on the phone it was always, “I’m doing fine—don’t worry.” She has turned herself into a mountain behind us, always standing there. As long as we look back, we can see her.
A mother’s love is never anything earth-shattering—it’s the quilt edge tucked in during the dead of night, the fruit slipped into your bag before you leave, the dish you always love set on the dinner table every time you come home, and the heart that keeps remembering your warmth and coldness, no matter how far you go. All her life she thinks of us, and the only thing she forgets is herself.
Today, I want to say thank you to all mothers. Thank you for not being a superhero, but for turning into all-powerful help for us. May your days ahead be a little more lived for yourself—if you want to eat something, don’t leave it for later; if there’s a place you want to go, don’t wait. First, you are you; second, you are a mother.
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