thinking of....

Mama :)

Thick lustrous hair framed her tiny oval face, her petite figure clad in a flattering white summer dress. Gliding across the room with ease like a queen before her throne, one would have guessed she was in her late twenties, at most early thirties.

Yet as she neared, I could glimpse faint crow lines materializing by her curly eyelashes. Her once smooth forehead was now a mess of unsightly creases. Every wrinkle etched onto her face represented the countless of worries I gave her. Suddenly, a gnarled hand with short and stubby fingers reached out to me. Those weathered hands had caressed my face when I was born, wiped away my tears when I faced failure, held me tightly in the warm embrace of care and love. Without hesitation I clasped them tightly, hoping to convey my love and gratitude towards my mother.

Looks do not matter.