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Angel Mother This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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     “All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” Those magical words were spoken by none other than Abraham Lincoln, a poet, a president and a loving son. Plenty of people say that your mom is the only one you can love beyond doubt, but that’s not true. They forget that there are mothers out there who don’t love their children as God intended. They do terrible things like abusing them, stop loving them, or even trading them for things that will benefit them. How is it possible to trade your own child, you ask? It is quite possible - alcohol was more important to my mother than I was.

I was born in a town six hours east of Moscow in Russia. Growing up, I rarely thought that anyone existed except my mommy and me. That’s the way life was until I was five. Then we stopped spending time together, and it became my grandmother and me who were always together, which was not a bad thing.

One day, I found my mom arguing with my grandma. When my mom looked at me, I didn’t see the woman who had loved me like I was the only one in her life. Her eyes were red, her beautiful smile had become a frown, and she kept rocking back and forth like a tree blowing in a stormy wind.

“Let’s go!” she yelled at me, grabbing me by the arm. I started to cry because I didn’t know this woman who was screaming and pushing me. I yelled “Help!” just before she pushed me to the floor and started to kick me like I was a dirty soccer ball.

I lived like that, with her hurting me, my grandma and herself, for two years - until one day my grandma promised that she would do everything in her power to get me out of that house. She kept her promise, and for the next three years I lived in an orphanage. There wasn’t a night I didn’t go to bed thinking about how alcohol had done this terrible thing to my sweet, loving mom. But the biggest question I kept asking myself was, Will I ever find another woman who can love me as much or more than the one who traded me as if I were a baseball card? Every morning and night I prayed for God to send me an angel to take me under her wing, an angel that I could call Mother once again.

Then on June 28, 2001 my prayers were answered. I walked into a room and saw an exquisite, smiling woman full of grace and kindness, a woman I immediately began calling my mom. The moment I saw her, I realized that I could forget about everything bad that had happened.

My mom is always there for me whenever I’m in trouble or simply need to be cheered up. She can tell if I’m sad or happy just by looking at my face. That’s what real moms do. They feel their children’s pain, happiness, success and failure. Even though I had prayed, I never imagined that I would ever find another woman I could love as much as my birth mom, but I proved myself wrong. I love her way more than I have ever loved anyone in this whole world.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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