0TÀI LIỆU TIẾNG ANH"Tonight I sleep

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TÀI LIỆU TIẾNG ANH



"Tonight I sleep the round She is the lifetime of the wind. " In this life, who would not have grown up in the arms of mother, to hear the deal ru Au of sweet, anyone would not dream pharmaceutical sinking into her hand in the cool wind fans every sultry summer afternoon. And in this life, one love by her children, one life for me like mother, one sweet fleshy ready to share with their children as mothers. For me too, she is most interested in me and who I loved and the most indebted in the world. I have often thought that my mother's not pretty. Not so nice because there is no white water, kindly round face or sparkling eyes ... but she only thin face, tanned, high forehead, the wrinkles of the age of 40, of how anxiety in life imprinted on the corner of his eye. But my father told her more beautiful than other women in the beauty of wisdom. Yes, my mother was smart, agile, very resourceful. On the stance of a leader, people thought she was cold and stern. there are times when I thought so. but when she sat, her hand lovingly stroked my hair, all that in mind melted away. I have the feeling lightheadedness, anxiety, especially, feel like I have never received so much love. It looks like a dotted line intensity transmitted through her hands deep into my heart, eye, lips affectionately, the sweet smile ... through all of the mother. that love is only when people close to her long to feel fine. From small to big, I received the infinite love of the mother as a gift, a granted. In the eyes of a child, my mother was born to take care of children. I never ask the question: Why did she accept the unconditional sacrifice for you? . Good mother, very good to me but sometimes I think she was too much, so ... evil. How many times, my mother scolded me, I cried. Crying because of frustrations, but where crying bitterly regret. Then one time ... I came home from school, my mother read her diary stolen. I became very, pulling even the diary from her hand and shouted: "Why are so worth that! This is the secret of the child, the mother has no right to. Very bad mother, I do not need you anymore! "Just thought I would eat a slap hurt. But she is not only silent, pale cheeks, eyes brimming Edges. There is something that I could not look straight into her eyes. Free man do I think eventually fell asleep. In my dream film, I felt like a warm hand, lightly touching my hair, pulling my blanket. Yes I am looking forward to feeling it, feeling sweet loving. I was absorbed in his moments of tenderness, fixed, closed his eyes for fear if you open your eyes, feeling it would fly away, away forever ahead into nothingness and we just added a new reality. The next morning I woke up, I felt back home that gloomy world. There is something missing. That morning, I had to eat bread, no white rice every day. I ventured, asked him whether she was going. My father said she was ill, was hospitalized a week. Feeling sad reigned the minds of my little. Mother in hospital and who will cook, wash one, who confided to me? I regret too, just because the anger that had broken the welfare of this little house. In my sick mother. All week, I was very sad. Housing shortage that mother's smile so lonely that. Every meal I have to eat outside, no one took her mother cooked my favorite. Oh how I remember the boiled vegetables, casseroles are the mother. After a week, she returned home, I was the first to greet her. I just found out, she ran to hug me. Mother cried, saying: "I'm sorry baby, she should not see the secret. The mother ... I forgive you, my son. "I choked emotion, tears wet. I just wanted to say: "Mom in human error, at the damage, all in children only. ". But why these words so hard to say. I hugged her, crying a lot. Alas! After a week I saw her mother to give any importance. Every day, parents busy with work that has stars like magic. Early morning, when he was dark, she was worried meals for your father. Then at the mother to cook many delicious dishes OI. He does the dishes must be higher to nothing. Only a popular meal time but filled with the same conviction infini