My mother is not a saint. She is an angel.

Well, she is an ordinary woman, maybe an ordinary mom, but still, she is one of a kind.

She cooks, she cleans, she shops, she washes, and she tidies up.

She still does the house work even though we have a maid at home!

She was a public servant, working for the government and very proud of it.

But as she gave birth to her first baby, she let it go. She let go her good carrier for a naughty baby girl.

Now, she has many jobs. She is a teacher for her naughty children. She is a personal assistant, a secretary, a co-pilot and a vice president for my dad. She is a five star chef in the house. She is a nurse as well as a doctor when we get sick (mothers know best! even doctors can't deny that! heehee!). She is a consultant for our personal problem. She is a seamstress for our clothes problem. She is everything!

She is a mother and she is proud of it.

My mom works for God. She takes part in the social work in our church.

She likes helping others. She has a golden heart.

My mom always knows what's in my heart and in my mind. She doesn't need million times to understand my emotions. She sees me as an open book.

My mom is brave and tough. But every time I am sick, she is as scared as a little girl.

I remember once when I was very young, she cried and hugged me tight when I was really sick.

Every time I don't trust my self, my mom always know how to encourage me and make me believe that I can do it better than before.

She may seem like a pushover, but she does it only when I am down and sink in my own tears.

Every time we face a terrible and horrible matter, she doesn't let me see the fear in her face.

She shows me that I can always lean on her.

When I feel that every thing is messed up, she gives me faith and make me believe that everything is going to be alright.

She comforts me when I feel sad.

She smiles at me when I feel bad.

My mom is not a saint. She is an angel.