One day, suddenly, my mother passed away from a heart attack.
Her body, which had shriveled down to almost nothing, turned to dust.
It was enough to fill a small flower pot, just enough to grow a few tulips.
I thought to myself, “If life can grow from this, will it truly bring happiness?”
I shook my head, trying to push the thought away, struggling to focus on something else.

When I read this, it reminded me of the moment when my own mother passed away, and I was preparing her for burial.
Seeing her small, shrunken body, I wept, thinking, “She gave everything, even her outer shell.”
My mother’s sacrifices, her hard work, her dreams and hopes are still alive in my heart.
Especially her prayers and tears, they are the eternal nourishment of my soul and the never-ending spring of my morning letters.

mother, sacrifice, prayers