My earliest memories are parts of my life which are precious to me. I remember being a child, cradled in my mother’s arms. I could hear curtains ruffling softly. The curtains were off to the side and rays of light came beaming at me. I could see my mother, grasping at me, holding me tightly toward her chest. I remember my first memories of my mother. She looked as if she were an angel, covered in a shroud of light. I remember seeing her majestic face glowing with such radiance, it was as if I was gazing at the full moon. Her long black hair lay curled upon her shoulders. I remember my mother was brimming with youth and beauty. I recall on that day there lay a gentle smile on her face, a sight which I treasure for the rest of my life.
My mother places me gently into my crib an begins to walk away. I remember tears trickling down my face. I reached my hand out attempting to grab at my mother, only to grasp onto thin air. I watched as my mother’s shadow turns into nothingness. I hear the echoing of her footsteps turn into silence. Panicking, I jump out of my crib and crawl towards my mother. When I see her, I cry out, full of joy and happiness. I clutched onto her not letting go until I fell asleep. Now, I realise that my mother merely walked through the door toward the kitchen, which was the reason why I was unable to see or hear her.