She took a step back, looked at the work she created - the life she created - and smiled. Soaking in the moment, she reminisced on all the work: shuffling around, grabbing all the tools out of the shed, and making sure she had just the right amount of soil and nutrients. Quickly, she ran back to grab the last vital piece - the seed. With absolute perfection, she dropped her hopeful, little seed into a freshly dug hole. The process repeated, and she took a step back, wiped the sweat off her head, looked upon her perfect garden, and smiled. Now, the life of a gardener is not an easy one. On a daily basis the gardener would wake up early to water her plants. And some days, the gardener would notice that weeds were growing and removed them in full acknowledgement that the weeds would hinder the growth of her plant. The gardener always knew exactly what to do and even spoke to the plants in hopes their roots would sink into the earth. Throughout her whole life, the gardener never once took a break; her priorities always laid with her garden.
As the plants started to harvest, the gardener's face filled with excitement and bliss. Her creation reflected all the hard work she put into her perfect garden, and she felt the satisfaction that it brought. The beautiful creation she marveled at was all the reward she needed. My mother is the gardener in my life, and I am the seed in hers. My mom spent my entire life making sure that I was always happy and healthy, similar to the gardener who tended to her plants. Whenever there was heartbreak, disappointment, or hopelessness, my mother helped me overcome them by helping me pull them out of my life. She has continuously supported and tended to me - waiting for the harvest season to come.
That season arrived just a few months ago. Senior year began, and my mom saw the reality of all her hard work: I would be the first in my family to go to college. My mom has been a single mother for the majority of my life, as well as for my older brother and sister's lives.