Mom: Angel and Lioness
We live in fast and voracious times: humanity has learned to make bombs and gags, intelligent machines, gigantic buildings, telephones capable of bringing us closer to the world as if we were Siamese twins; however, every day feelings seem to be incinerated amidst societies smeared with wild materialism, where success is measured by the tangible, not by what one loves, crumbling the tenderness that flows from beings of light who are content with an 'I love you.' Honoring Mom is not bringing her flowers to the cemetery or her home on the second Sunday in May, it is accompanying her, listening to her without interruption, respecting her, lending her our shoulder, hugging her as if centuries had passed without seeing each other.
