Pomme Terre

Of course, I never meant to shut her out of my life. The door locking was to add on drama so mom should know I was very upset indeed. I unlocked the door and allowed her to dash into the room and hugged me, while I spilt, in between sobs, the story of my day.

"I would never be good at anything..." I ended.

"Aww... that's bullshit." She said. Yes, that was what she said to me and I learnt fast. Mom took my artwork which was, by then, rather crumpled up, held it at length and studied it. "You've got an amazing imagination. A white octopus in a purple colored ocean... and qu'est-ce que c'est? Is it a jellyfish? " pointing to a yellow garb of poorly defined margin.

"It's a plastic bag..." I replied.

"Aw... darling." She chuckled. "Look at me." She knelt down to the level of my height and we saw each other eye to eye. She grabbed my shoulders and gave me a motherly smile that made me truly believe that everything was going to be alright.

"Faye... Never doubt yourself okay. Your name Faye, in French, means..."

"Believe... I know, mom" I finished her sentence.

"C'est vrai. That's right. So you gotta believe in yourself and the one in you. For as a man thinks in his heart, so is he. It's OK to fail sometimes. Celebrate failures. " Deep phrases for a kid. My mom is a smart woman. "And in Chinese, Faye means..."