My mom is thirty years old, and her face has left some signs of age. But with her melon-shaped face plus long, waist-length black hair, she's as pretty as can be.
Mom is an ordinary elementary school teacher who wakes up early every morning to make breakfast for our family before rushing to school. In the afternoon, when she came home from work, she made dinner for us and cleaned up. After all this, she patiently tutored me in my homework. Week after week, year after year, but she never complained to us. Mom's efforts were not in vain, my grades were always at the top of the class, and I won many awards. Every time I came home with the certificate, my mom was always happy to put it on the wall, with a sweet smile on her face. Looking at my mom with a smile on her face, I thought she was the most beautiful person in the world.
I still remember that time when my mom checked my homework.
That time, the teacher assigned the homework to write an essay, I usually hate writing essays, and I was most afraid of writing essays. It was hard to spend an hour to complete the task, ready to put into the book bag, mom came, asked me to take the homework check, the usual homework I am not afraid of checking, but essay - hey! I was extremely reluctant to get in front of her. The heart is simply loaded with fifteen buckets - seven up and eight down. As expected, mom just started to look at the beginning of my essay and said: "You should add a sentence here, the sentence here is not fluent, the words here are written wrong . . . . . Go and rewrite it." I spent an hour to write a good composition, but my mother pointed out so many problems, tears can not help but come out, but I still according to my mother told me to rewrite it again. After writing, my mom poured me a cup of hot water. Mom kindly said, "I also know that you spent a lot of time writing this composition and thought about it with all your heart, but a good composition should be revised constantly, and you should apply the beautiful words and phrases that you usually accumulate to your own composition, so that you can improve your writing ability." The next day, my teacher said I wrote well. I knew it couldn't be done without my mom's help.
Mom not only cares about my study, but also cares about my body. I remember one night last winter, when I was ready to rest, I suddenly felt some headache, at first I endured. After a while, more and more pain, can not help but moan. I wanted to call my mom to come and take a look, but I thought that my mom was working so hard all day long, so how could I bear to disturb her? Soon, my mom walked into my bedroom, saw me holding my head and moaning, with a hand to touch my forehead, could not help but exclaimed "so hot ah!" I knew she was going to carry me out again. I know that she is going to carry me to the hospital again, and I have had the experience of carrying me to the doctor late at night. On the way, the piercing cold wind blew, my face was as painful as a knife cut, my mother was busy telling me to hide my face behind my back so as not to freeze.
While my home is only ten minutes from the hospital, but my mother walked more than twenty minutes to the hospital, looking at my mother's forehead large beads of sweat, listening to the mouth panting gasping, my tears can not help but come out of my eyes, my mother to see me like this, but also thought that I had a bad headache. Busy to comfort me, it's okay, the doctor checked it won't hurt ......
Listening to these words, my heart is sour again, more tears. Mom, my good mom, I will make sure that you will always be the most beautiful person in the world!