Mother Survived Machine Gun Strafing and Bombs

Whenever I count my blessings, my mother and father are top on the list. My mother grew up in a world much different than what I'm used to. Her childhood was spent ducking under bridges to hide from Japanese bombing raids. She experienced the terror of men in low flying aircraft spraying civilians with machine gun fire. She saw bodies blown into pieces at a spot she had just vacated a few seconds ago. She's even experienced Japanese quality control gone wrong! A bomb went through the roof of her house, down three stories and landed on the ground floor unexploded.

At the young age of nineteen, my mother immigrated to the United States of America. She gave up her homeland so that her children could have a better life, the chance to become a Christian and live in a land of opportunity and liberty. Because of the hardship of her upbringing, my mother taught me never to take anything for granted, to work hard and be appreciative. While my mother was not the most emotional or pampering type of mother, she showed her love by doggedly defending us and supporting us against bullies whether teachers or other children. She also stressed the role of education and simply expected us to succeed without her pushing or prodding.

Mother's Day is around the corner. My mother loves to read, and her house is stacked wall to wall with books. I'm grateful to my mother for allowing me to be born, raising me with love, teaching me the value of hard work, and giving me an appreciation and love for the arts, music and literature.