My Mother's Love Through The Eyes Of A Child

Looking back and remembering through the eyes of a child, my mother's love. 

My mother adopted me at the age of 6 months old when I was left just here and there. My father loved me, but he couldn't take care of me, so my grandmother and my papaw raised me.  I saw my dad every day, but that is another story for another time.  This story is about my mother's love and what love means to a child.

Anyway, These are the times when I felt loved the most as a child. One memory, in particular, was when my mom, or mommy as I called her, would read to me, while I listened quietly and contently, kneeled at her feet. She would read to me, for what seemed to be hours on end. With me so enthralled in the story yelling " read another, read another," and she would until she grew tired and weary. She would sometimes read fairy tales and then sometimes Bible stories. Each of which she had read 1000 times each, lol.

                                                                                         

Another time, l was Underneath the kitchen table, where I played as I smelled the delicious aroma of whatever my mother was cooking. She would wipe the sweat from her brow, as she cooked, always making sure she fixed something special just for me. I was always a picky eater. She and I would sometimes even bake cakes together. She would let me stir and lick the frosting from the spatula after the cake was done. The very first cake we ever made was strawberry with cream cheese frosting. Mmmmmmm, I can remember the very first bite of that strawberry cake. It was truly mouth-watering as I bit into it with such child-like delight. 

My very Favorite memory was our long talks of the night that we would have. This is where I would tell her all my joys, and troubles of the day. She would give me her heart-felt wisdom and advice, and back up, lol. I had been being picked on in school,  and I had been taking it and taking it, all the time thinking I had to or I would be in trouble. Little did I know that when I finally told mommy and my daddy and papaw, that my whole family would be behind me in taking up for myself, lol. They said, "Berny, My name is bernice, they called me Berny, Don't ever start any trouble, but when somebody lays a hand on you try your best to kill um."  Now they didn't really mean for me to kill them, lol. Back then that was just a way of saying beat the snot of them so they will leave you alone. Well, anyway,  I was so happy. This was all I needed to hear. I went to school the next day, and when That boy messed with me again, I turned around and punched him so hard that his nose bleeds, lol. I had been picked on for so long at this point. I think even the teachers were proud of me, lol. From then on I never took anything off anybody until highschool, But that too is another story. 

Looking back through the eyes of a child when I felt the most loved was when my mom would spend time with me. Even when she would be busy doing something I could still feel her love for me just by being in the room with her. I really miss those days.