[Essay: My Mom]
[I grew up in a slum, surviving on leftover food from others. I had never even seen my mom's face.
One time, while David and I were digging through trash cans in the busy downtown area for empty bottles to sell, we noticed a little girl with very soft skin, dressed nicely. She must have gotten separated from her family. There she was, standing by the road and crying while holding a delicate doll.
Before long, a panicked woman spotted the girl and rushed toward her as if she were flying, losing her shoes along the way without even noticing.
When the woman finally hugged the little girl tightly, she opened her mouth as if to say something but suddenly burst into tears.
The woman held her daughter in a warm embrace, and they both cried together for a long time.
David and
