Some time ago, my mother was sleeping in my room and talking to me about my childhood. She said: “You were really horrible as a child. No one in the family can control you. I die every three or five days. When you were a kid, your mouth was pretty good. The adults in the neighborhood liked you very much. The one called by your uncle, aunt, grandfather and grandmother who passed through our family, whether you knew them or not, was caring. It's just that you don't call any of these relatives at home. Anyway, you can say that you are a stranger and no one is calling you. The more you don't know, the more energetic you say it is. So I am writing this essay to address it to my mother. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay I think I was bad when I was young, maybe not really bad. I didn't feel safe when I was young. When I was not born, family planning controls were very strict. Many families wanted to have more births but had to guard against family planning controls. Many of them spent money to place their children with other families. I was one of them. I was sent to their friend's parents to be placed in foster care shortly after I was born. When I grew up, I knew I was sent to my friend's parents as if I was only a month or two old. I was housed there for about two years, then my parents took me home. It is reasonable to say that a child of two or three years old should have no memory or understand anything, but I am the exception. Although returning home, we still go to the countryside to bring back my grandparents' house to send them New Year's greetings. I also have a brother, when I was young, I often had problems with My brother. Every time he cried, he would open the bedroom door and cry towards his mother outside. My mother beat me and scolded me without asking me why. I thought my mother didn't love me. She hated me. They only loved my brother. Later, when I grew up, I gradually remembered the time when I was about six or seven years old. I started not calling my parents, or anyone in the family. I didn't like staying in that house and I didn't like talking. I started running away from home for over an hour to go to my grandparents' house in the countryside. I don't know how this person found their way to my grandparents' house. I like to stay with my grandparents. I'll call them at my grandparents' house. In this place I am like a wild horse without a bridle. I will do what I want, sir. Grandfather and grandmother and their sons and daughters-in-law are very kind to me. When I watch TV, I like to watch TV. When I want to eat snacks, my grandfather takes me to buy them. Grandfather and grandmother will basically satisfy me with everything. Every vacation day, summer and winter, I went to my grandparents' house for a while. Grandpa made me two bags and some sticks to put frogs in. In the summer the sun was shining outside and I often went out to drop off frogs for a whole day. I left the house without telling my parents I was gone. Later I heard that they were looking for me everywhere. Later, I picked myself up from my grandparents. If I don't talk to them at home, I don't call my parents. My parents should be sad too. Mother takes us more often. Grandma often tells me: “My children, my parents must cry. You don'tdon't make yourself sad. Your father really loves you very much from a very young age. Your father loves you more than your brother. You can't call your parents either. I don't think so. I admit that Dad has a good character in all aspects. He hasn't beaten me or scolded me since childhood. My defense against them was so deep in my heart that I separated them very far from each other. Later, I often left the house every three or five times, each time to the same place: to grandfather and grandmother. Little by little, my mother got used to knowing where I would run to when I left the house. Sometimes she would let me stay there for a few days and come pick me up. Sometimes when I left, they would come find me and pick me up. I was particularly afraid of my mother. Even when I saw his eyes looking at me, I thought it was a warning. His tone was too heavy and I thought it was going to hit me. Truth be told, I rarely sleep in bed with my mom to talk face to face like that. It can be said that there was practically no discussion before. Maybe there was a little hesitation in my heart. I didn't look at my mother. I lay flat on my bed, looked at the ceiling, and said, “When I was a kid, I thought you were really horrible. I would fight and scold myself from time to time, which scared me to death as a child. After listening, she laughed and asked, “What now?” I said, "Now I know that when I was a kid, it wasn't you who was bad, it was me who was too bad." I remember when I was in middle school, I once wanted to stay with my grandparents. ' house for a while. My mother refused to let me go home for another period. At that time I was very upset and in a bad mood. My mother saw it and she agreed to let an uncle drive a motorcycle to send me off. Back in my room, I wrote a letter to my family for the first time in my life. It was very long. I don't remember what was written in the letter at that time. I just remember that it probably explained why I loved going to my grandparents and why I was one of them. The next time I left the house, I wanted to say something to my mother. Until now, I am twenty years old and I have seen this letter in my mother's wallet several times. Several times I took it out, but I didn't dare open it. As soon as I opened it, I could see how childish I was, how unreasonable I was. Until now, I still don't have the courage. I opened the letter I had written to my mother. Mom, actually, I really want to say sorry to you, let you feel sad countless times, and make you angry again and again. Time has transformed you in the photos into you now. Dad is rarely home. Everything in the family is under your control. While you are in charge of the store, you have to take care of us, do laundry and get things done at the same time. Dinner, cleaning, things at home and in the store are always busy. You don't have cosmetics, skin care products and perfume on the women's dressing table, but lip gloss and moisturizing water. Your hands are full of cocoons, your skin is dark, and the freckles are growing a lot, which looks like you in the photo from more than 20 years ago. Truly, you are a good mother, worthy of the name good mother. Keep in mind: this is just a sample. Get a personalized article from our expert writers now. 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