Personal Narrative: My Mother
It was a hot summer night in August. I could not sleep; I feared that the upcoming baby would steal my mom’s love from me. It is normal for children to desire their parents’ love and attention, especially for a kid like me who grew up with a single mom. At the age of four, my mom was my whole world. I thought she felt the same way until she announced that she would have a baby. I would not have accepted the fact that my mom could divide her love between me and my sister. However, when I observed my mom holding a tiny crying baby in her arms, witnessing her happy tears gave me the strength to take care of my little sister. My little sister’s existence not only taught me how to be caring and selfless to my family, but it also sparked the compassion in me to care for others
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As a big sister, I have developed a sense of responsibility, patience, and understanding of others. When my mom would say her last goodbyes for the day, I would fulfill her role and hug my little sister, sing her lullabies, and comfort her when she cried. The time we spent together was precious; it reminded me of my lonely childhood. Not wanting her to feel that same loneliness, I gave her the toys that I played with as a child. I learned how to deal with her tantrums not through argument but through heart to heart conversation. I volunteered at her school to helped elementary kids play instruments. The big sister instinct in me came out when helping out students, and among them, there was an autistic boy who I took under my wing. He did not understand the music notes; he would often be put off to the side of the classroom,
As a big sister, I have developed a sense of responsibility, patience, and understanding of others. When my mom would say her last goodbyes for the day, I would fulfill her role and hug my little sister, sing her lullabies, and comfort her when she cried. The time we spent together was precious; it reminded me of my lonely childhood. Not wanting her to feel that same loneliness, I gave her the toys that I played with as a child. I learned how to deal with her tantrums not through argument but through heart to heart conversation. I volunteered at her school to helped elementary kids play instruments. The big sister instinct in me came out when helping out students, and among them, there was an autistic boy who I took under my wing. He did not understand the music notes; he would often be put off to the side of the classroom,