An Angel for a Mother by Tyreek Peppers

Yesterday, I walked my mother from work and along the way we talked about what I wanted to do after high school. There was a deep pause for a minute, I told her I didn’t know. I really want to go to college, but on the other hand, I want to be a performer. After that I tried change the subject, by asking her what does she think the rest of the fam is doing. For a short second it worked. Well, not seconds—more like a couple of minutes.

I’ve been working all week, and when I come home I barely have time to check on them like I use to. I don’t even spend time with them on the weekend because I have other events to attend to. Then, she brought the topic right back up; then I told her I wanted to be a performer. When I told her, she give me a smile, say that she believes I could do it. I’ve always listened very closely to her words because her words always pushed me to achieve what I really wanted.

I listened to my father's words too, but he wasn’t always around. My mother was always by my side no matter what I did, whether it was bad or good. I used to do a lot of bad things when I was a child, but for her sake I had to make a change. I wanted my mother to see me other than a troubled child sitting in the principal's office because I was in another fight or talking back to a teacher. I told myself that my mother will only have to come up to the school to see the good things I could achieve.

No parent loves coming to the school to hear that their children got into some trouble. Parents feel embarrassed walking into the school office to hear the news. I know for a fact the parents weren’t happy sitting in that office; they didn’t have to say anything to me because I saw it on their faces. I always tried to call father because I knew that my mother would be upset—that and I lived in the same house. When they’d call my father, he’d never answered his phone. It was like he knew it was a bad call and never picked up, but my mother wouldn't let it past the first ring. My mother, no matter what, always answered her phone. It’s like she knew that her one of her babies was in trouble. She was always claimed to tell us that she was upset with what I did and that she still loved us for who we are—she shared her love between four boys equally. I wouldn’t be here today without my mother going through a lot of pain and I just want to say to her, “thank you.”