Perhaps when you were a child, everyone heard a lullaby, or a poem: "No matter how old you are, you are still your mother's child. Gone away, still under the mother's womb". And in this essay, I will tell about my wonderful mother – a mother who always loves her children with her whole life. My mother is over thirty years old this year, her skin is no longer white, but darkened because of her hard work taking care of us. Mother has long black hair that reaches down to her back and is always neatly tied up in the back. The teeth are even, shiny white and always smile when something makes her happy. My mother is not very tall, a bit thin, her gait is very agile. Mom is always busy with any work that is going to the market, housework, going to work…but she never complains of being hard or tired. Although she is busy, she still makes time for her children. My mother taught me to study, taught me to do housework, she only taught me to do the smallest things, she told me to learn to be careful from small jobs onwards, then bigger things can be done do well. I always remember my mother's advice and try to do well. I still remember the day when I first entered the first grade, my mother took me to school, before that day she took me to visit the school, at night she encouraged and encouraged me to not be surprised in the first days of school. Then when I learned that I wrote with my left hand, my mother persistently practiced right hand writing for me every day. My mother held my hand and smoothed every word, shaped every stroke so that now I can go to the school's clean-writing exam and win the prize, all thanks to her. I remember one time when I was still young, that day classes went home early. I was waiting for my mother at the school gate when a friend near my house invited me to walk home because the school was not far from home. As usual, at the end of school, my mother came to pick me up and saw that all classes had returned. Mom quickly asked the security guard if he saw any children waiting at the school gate, but the security guard said there was no. Mom panicked to find me, called my dad to see if he was going to pick me up, but he was still working. Needless to say, how worried my mother was. Mom looked all over the streets, where she used to take me out, but couldn't find it. Only when my father came home from work, he saw me at home and called my mother. Mom came home tired. At this point, I still don't know what I have caused, so I still sit still. Then my mother hit me, this is the first time she hit me, I cried and she cried too. I was too young, so I didn't know anything but blamed my mother for beating me. Later, when I was a little older, I learned that my mother beat me just because she was too worried about me, beat me because I didn't listen to her. To this day, I still can't forget the time I was beaten by my mother. Mom! I'm sorry. At that time, I did not understand to say sorry to my mother. My teacher said: "Of all the wonders, the mother's heart is the greatest." I will try my best to study well so that mom will always smile at her. Mom! I love Mom.