The smell of her favorite perfume wafted through the air. Her temper rises as she looks for her daughter.
“Angelica! You’re playing with my perfume again!”
“No Mama, I was not.”
“That is a very expensive perfume and you’re playing with it.”
“No Mama. I was not playing!”, her daughter insists.
Her temper rises further and she holds her daughter steady and spanked her for lying and wasting her perfume.
As she starts to calm down, she notices a card lying inside her daughter’s room. She opened the card and felt a heart-wrenching pain when she saw a Mother’s Day card with the smell of her perfume on the paper.
What have I done?, she asked herself.
She went out and looked for her daughter again, her heart filled with endless guilt.
As she embraces her in her arms, tears kept on falling down her face. And the only thing that she could say was “Sorry”.
-- dedicated to my twin sister Malou and my pretty little niece Louise
Saturday, May 5, 2007
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