Although I appear to be calm, but no one knows that my whole body is burning in hell, my heart ceases functioning, and that I am writhing in agony. I just can not stand it. Why can't it be me? I'II be very glad. I want to bear her burden of her old age and the sickness of her body. I want nothing more, nothing in the world than the smile on her face, the healthy look in her eyes, the gentle stroke of her hand, the delicate tones in her speaking, the warmth of her breath, the tender movement of her body, and every affectionate quality my mother possesses. I really don't know what to do but standing there in the hall trying to swallow the bitterness of every drop of my tears. My eyes swell accompanied with the dryness of my mouth and the turbulence of my mind.

For a moment, the icy water miraculously helps clotting the blood and therefore, maintaining it safely without expelling out through mom's mouth. I feel that mom is being so exhausted because she cannot stay upright unless dad gently sustain her body with his extended arms around her back. Mom does not say any words due to the loss of too much blood.

You could barely recognize her if you had been a guest last year. Her body has been diminished greatly during the last several months though she's just reached fifty-three years of age. She's weak and slow now, but still the sharpness of her mind is strong: she manages the family in well order and discipline. Her restless working every day for the family impresses on her children dearly. Despite her physical diminishment, she works about fourteen hours a day, mostly household chores;

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