The moment when I learned the meaning of “Appreciation”…

The boy thrashed on the floor as he begged and cried over and over again, his mother was oblivious to her son’s actions. He wailed and screams till he finally got what he wanted; he wanted a piece of candy. Finally I turned around at the noise and stared at his mother hoping the look I was giving her would actually make her do something about her disobedient son; I failed at the attempt. His father finally gave in to the little boy actions, most probably so he could save himself from the embarrassment and the ears of the people around him. I looked on from a distance as the little boy’s dramatic scene came to a stop. He happily gnawed on the piece of candy, his tears finally calmed along with his parent’s nerves. His mother looked like she’s was trying to figure out his punishment when they get home; his father on the other hand looked content that he had calmed his son down but was still on alert if the boy acted out again. Finally looking away I stared at my mom who was casually reading a magazine “Mom was I ever like that when I was little?” not even looking up from the article in front of her she responded “no you were the most perfect little girl ever, you never threw a tantrum”. I staring at my mom like a crazy person, cause every mother is like this, they think their child is the most perfect thing.
My mother is a very adoring woman; she was a single mother when she had me. My biological father left us when he found out she was pregnant, but she wasn’t fazed by it. We lived with my grandmother for 8 years. Most of those years my mother was working and going to school to make more money for both of our well-being. I was still little at the time but I remember asking her if we were poor, and that I remember her saying “no honey we aren’t. But there are little girls just like you in this whole entire world how don’t have a home like this’’ cutting her off I asked, “why?” She continued, “well there mommies and daddies don’t have a good job and can’t buy a house filled with toys and a backyard; they have to live in bad conditions and some even on the streets. You’re very lucky to have a home cause some don’t”. When she told me that it stuck to me, I always