Mother — the Great School That Raised Us

Mother is the great school that raises us.

In this article, I would like to write about my mother — a simple yet deeply faithful, kind, compassionate, and gentle woman. Although my mother does not have a higher education, she is intelligent, talented, and wise. Despite having five daughters in our family, she never complained about giving birth to girls. She raised all of us with great care and devotion. Especially because we were girls, she always chose our winter and summer clothes with taste and dressed us neatly.

She had a strong desire to study, but due to ignorance and circumstances, she was unable to receive an education. I remember that after finishing the first grade and starting summer vacation, whenever I came back from playing, my mother made me memorize the multiplication table written on the first pages of the notebooks my father had bought for my sisters.

When I was nine years old, my father gave me a fairy tale book titled “If You Laugh, It’s a Flower; If You Cry, It’s a Pearl” as a birthday gift. From that moment on, my love for books began. Gradually, I started reading books from the school library. I especially enjoyed reading works by Said Ahmad, O‘tkir Hoshimov, Tohir Malik, Hudoyberdi To‘xtaboyev, and other writers.

I remember when women from our village asked my mother, “Weren’t you afraid to send your daughter to Russia when she entered the All-Union Students’ Camp in the seventh grade?” My mother confidently replied, “I trust my daughter.”

Raising a girl is a delicate responsibility. My mother educated us not only academically but also through physical labor. To provide for eight children, my father worked as a physics teacher and also cultivated two to three hectares of land. He worked tirelessly thinning cotton plants, hoeing, and picking cotton. The atlas dress my parents bought for me to wear at the camp was the most beautiful of all; even my Russian friends Asya, Zhanna, and Larisa admired it.

When I graduated from school, my parents created all the necessary conditions for me to enter a higher educational institution. Even so, my mother would wake up at dawn to feed silkworms with mulberry leaves and milk the cow, ensuring that we never faced financial hardship.

My mother possessed an innate artistic talent. She sang songs and played the frame drum. This trait passed on to me as well. Her support played a significant role in my study of folklore and oral literature. Eventually, I achieved the status of a teacher and became a teacher of Mother Tongue and Literature.

Until this competition was announced, I had never written an article about my mother. Now that I reflect on it, I realize that all my achievements are the result of my mother’s tireless labor. There is wisdom in every word she speaks and meaning in every task she performs. Even when she was extremely busy, she would neatly braid my hair by the edge of the field.

Today, I am a mother myself. My mother is alive, praise be to God, and has performed the pilgrimage, yet I still seek her advice and take her as my role model. From her, I learned love, patience, diligence, and deep affection for children.

Poem

My dear mother, you are my life, my whole world,

The precious soul who brought me into this world.

With you, my world is bright and full of light,

My honored mother, Safiyakhon.

Your advice is as valuable as gold,

Your prayers are filled with wisdom untold.

Your very presence is my greatest wealth,

My honored mother, Safiyakhon.