I had a mountain of math problems, heaps of notes to study, and a colossal scienceproject I had barely started. I buried my head in my hands. Suddenly, I heard thefanfare of my hero: the grinding noise of the garage door opening. Relief washedover me.

There have been a number of occasions where my mother hasheroically rescued me. I almost suspect she has radar that detects when I amstressed.

I cannot even imagine spending a day in the shoes of my mother.My impeccable problem-solver is a psychologist and almost every day, shediscusses people's issues and cheers them up. Then, she miraculously musters theenergy to discuss my predicaments. It baffles me how she pulls it off, but sheremains a guardian parrot perched on my shoulder, always ready to lend a helpinghand. I admire her magical ability to fulfill all promises to me. She constantlylives up to her word, one of her main heroic ingredients.

Like achameleon, my mom handles all situations perfectly. She does not humiliate mewhen my friends visit, but instead makes us all feel comfortable and at home.Whenever I need advice, help on homework or just someone to listen, my mom isthere.

Mom's constant support has made me a more confident person. Hercompassion and warmth cause me to feel completely content discussing anythingwith her. She has taught me to learn from my mistakes instead of dwelling on themand to view things optimistically. I would not be who I am without her titanicinfluence. Mom is as heroic as anyone
could be.