The person that I admire is my mother. Her name is Manis Binti Rejab. It is she who brings her children into the world, teaches them their first word and moulds their character. My mother was such a wonderful mother. She was more than just an ordinary mother. My mother had made so many sacrifices for us even at the expense of her health.
On one fateful day, when the doctors and staffs at the intensive care unit of the University Hospital confirmed that my father would never be able to walk again, she knew what she had to do. Entrusting my father to take care of my grandmother while she was not at home, she took up a course in tailoring.
After six months, she started sewing cloths for her neighbours and friends and earned a meager income. It was a hand life but she never complained. One day, it was Sunday, November 24 2003. My mother asked what I wanted for my birthday.
I said that I want a bicycle. She raised her eyebrows and seemed that she do not have enough money to buy a bicycle. Then, I sulked the whole day and refused to come out from my room inspite of all their pleading. The rest of the day passed. I went to school as usual with my sad face.
When I returned home, my mother was waiting for me at the door. She held out her hand. ''Happy Birthday!" she said. She pointed her finger to one corner of the room. There in the corner, beside her sewing machine, stood the bicycle, all shining and new. I lost my words and tears well up in my eyes.
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