Clavelina Aguado. That’s my mother. 
 She brought me out into this world in the 
 month of May. Yet it’s also in the month 
 of May when she finally said goodbye 
 to the colorful flowers that bloom in 
 the month of May. I had so many fond 
 memories with my mother. And if I 
 have the chance to replay one moment with 
 her, I would choose the moment when I first 
 saw in her the courage and strength of 
 being a mother of ten children. I 
 was in sixth grade and we had a project 
 to submit. We were required to make an 
 ash tray out of a bamboo tree and the 
 deadline would be the following week. It 
 was Friday then and I had not done a 
 thing – no material to use, no resources 
 available and nobody seemed to 
 help me out. My father who was always 
 occupied with his farming routines did
 not bother himself a bit to help me. 
 So there I was, completely worried and 
 crying on early Saturday morning. 
 To make the scenario even worse, rain 
 was pouring heavily and there was a 
 strong wind outside as a tropical 
 storm would be passing through the region. 
 But who cares about the rain and the wind 
 and the storm, I had no project to 
 submit and that was torturing my brain, 
 so I kept on weeping on an early 
 Saturday morning. My mother couldn’t 
 stand me crying so she pulled out a 
 rain coat for me, took a sword-like bolo 
 like those that they would use in an epic 
 war movie and drag me out walking with 
 her through the nearby woods. We ended up 
 at the foot of the mountain where bamboos 
 were all over the place. But the area 
 was bushy and shrubby and certainly 
 would make you think twice whether to go near 
 the bamboo tree or not. My mother was 
 hoping that there would be a bamboo tree 
 already cut down or just left lying 
 around but there was none and that left her 
 with no choice but to go underneath and 
 cut a bamboo tree herself. The rain was 
 pouring heavily. The place was bushy 
 and difficult to walk through. There were twines 
 and twigs and thorns that kept slapping and 
 scratching my mother’s arms and face as 
 she held firmly her bolo to cut down 
 a bamboo tree. At that very moment 
 I saw a woman’s courage capable 
 of enduring everything for the sake of 
 her beloved. I saw a woman’s strength 
 powerful enough to stand every 
 test of time. I saw a mother who was
 so willingly giving her everything 
 for the love of her child. I do believe 
 there are other mothers out there who share 
 the same character as my mother yet 
 there will always be only one woman
 I would truly remember forever.
 Clavelina Ascueta Aguado. 
That’s her full name, and yes, she’s my mother.