i won a prize for this story in my school

The best teacher in my life

I lost my mother at an early age to cancer. But my mom’s memory haunted me and I soon went into depression. Dad was always busy with his business so really didn’t had much time for me. That’s why I was sent to boarding school. There I tried my best to mix up with other guys yet I always felt my mom’s absence in my life. Most of the time after school, I preferred staying alone. My academics went below par.
Once, on an occasion of Mother’s day, an essay writing competition was held. I always had a knack of writing and the topic being ‘MOTHERHOOD’ I wrote my heart out. Undisputedly I won the first prize; my Principal called me, praised my talent and asked whether I told my mom about it. I collapsed into tears and said that if I knew the number of heaven, I would have had definitely informed her. She was moved with my answer and held me in her arms. However I couldn’t stop tears, she comforted me and said, “No mother likes their children to cry. God needed her more than you so he called her. Aren’t you proud of that?? Now don’t let your mom feel small there. Let her feel proud that you flourished in life on your own. Her eyes are always on you.”
From that day, she would visit me everyday and took special care for my studies. With her ample care and love gradually I improved and topped the school in my SSC board exam. On our farewell, I thanked ma’am for giving me my life. With a lump in her throat she said, “My mom would be really proud of me.” I didn’t want her to know my melancholy by shedding tears instead gave her a gift; she deliberately accepted but said she preferred my letters. I promised her I would keep writing to her. Even in school, on my every birthday, I would give her a letter. She would read my letters with a smile.
For few days I was down without her. I really missed her. She was a lady of dignity and power. She believed in doing her things around with her own ways, which invited a fair amount of admiration as well as criticism. Disturbed at the wagging tongues, I asked her once how she remained calm. She replied, “In every field, there are critics and admirers. But, if you are to yourself, you need not bother about these things.” I always wondered from where she got such vibrant energy to stand against this cruel world. I got it was all because of her divine relation with the Almighty. Sometimes even I accompanied her to the church in Sundays. There she would be a different persona all together- composed and silent, so much sunken in her prayer. I inquired once, what she wished to God. She smiled and she said that she had a son who was studying in U.S. and she prayed for his well being. Then it was my turn and I answered
“I asked God to fulfill your wish.”
I kept my promise and continued writing. For couple of years I got reply, then suddenly they stopped and finally I started getting my letters back. When I inquired about it at the post office, I came to know that nobody stays there with that name. I was quite surprised, but then I was busy in my new life and didn’t go ahead with the investigations. Few months later I had to visit Mumbai for some work, and I gave a try to hunt her whereabouts. It took me four days to locate her. She was admitted to an asylum after a paralytic stroke, she had a lost her dear son. He was too a hero like her and gave his life saving two children in Mumbai floods. His end was too big for her to bear and soon she was paralyzed.
I took her home and cared her as she did for me. She recovered gradually and even started me talking. But God needed her too, her health collapsed one day suddenly. Doctors gave their final word; I kept seated along her bed praying God all night to spare her, but he is cruel too and took her away from me. During her last breath, she held my hand and said
“Son, thanks for inculcating my teaching and values, continue doing good things. I am going among the star where my beloved son and your mother are. I will tell her all about you. She would be so proud of you. After I am gone, promise you won’t cry.”
I nodded and she closed her eyes in peace, forever.
Few days later, after she left us, I opened an old suitcase which belonged to her and occupied a pride place on her table. Along with documents, photographs and few gifts from her son, I found an envelope. I took a look inside and found all my letters to her kept in sequence and well maintained. There wasn’t a single fold on the pages even the first letter, which was eight years old, was intact.
Tears welled up in my eyes. For long time, I was overwhelmed. Sorry ma’am I failed to keep my promise.