A Personal Encounter (Essay Sample)

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It was one cool Friday evening when the nimbus clouds were hanging loosely, ready to release a downpour. I was just seated in the living room in our snug couch reading a motivational book by the name’ How to Turn Scars into Stars’ as I enjoyed the cool breeze that came in, through the sitting room window that was open. I however ,I had anticipated that it was going to rain cats and dogs due to the cracking of thunder that was happening incessantly. I was highly excited and jubilated because I was cock sure that my mother would prepare a delectable, scrumptious and delicious meal as she always did. I knew that evening, the smell of bread and coco with the tender marinated chicken which she always cooked would be wafting the whole house woe unto the neighbors, who did not possess the culinary skills as my mother did. I was the apple of my mother’s eye, because, I was the only child in the family therefore, she was there at my beck and call.
No sooner had I finished reading the first chapter, than, I heard somebody fumbling with the flight of stairs. At the beginning, my heart skipped a beat then began palpitating loudly as if it wanted to come out of its ribcage. I tiptoed stealthily downstairs to see who it was, to my utter surprise and jubilation, it was my beloved mother looking a little bit fatigued but composed. When she saw, me she jumped and hit the roof of the stairs. I jerked towards her like an attacking cobra and in a shake of a ducks tail; I helped her and gave her a warm and heartfelt hug. I had no father and my mother had not explained to me where he was. Her resources were meager because she did not have a good job but, provided me with all that I needed without a second thought. As I left, my mother headed to the living room, I unconsciously had a look at the paintings of a sunset with its rich reds and yellows and I felt warmth creep into me. My mother was a strong pillar in my life because of the emotional encouragement and the motivation she gave me. As she reached the living room, she nostalgically began looking at an album that had my photos when I was innocent and young walking around just with diapers with total innocence without a tinge of shame. She was trying to remind herself of the days when my father was with us before he left and my mother had no option but to shoulder all the family responsibilities. I shed tears of bitterness as my mother narrated to me that those were the last pictures that were taken before my father left us when I was just eleven mont...