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All my life, people tell me I look like my mom. More than once or twice, I was told I looked exactly like her. Now as an adult, I’d have to admit I do look like her. My face, my body shape, some of my expressions, and a few other mannerism do look like her.

When I was younger, I didn’t like it when people commented how much I looked like my mother. I wonder how many youths like to be told they look like their parent. In my youth, I used to think … I wanted to look cool and fashionable, not like my mother; I wanted to have my own identity, not like my mother; I wanted to know more about the world, not like my mother; I wanted to be learned, scholarly and educated, not like my mother; I wanted to have a tall and slim figure, not like my mother; I wanted to be softer and well spoken, not like my mother; I wanted to travel the world, not like my mother …. You get the picture.

The reality is that I do look like my mother. I have her stocky and short stature, her unshapely and peasant legs and feet, her sense of thriftiness and much more. I stopped resenting our look alikes many years ago (I’m not sure when this happened, but I’m guessing around the time when we started our own family) and I started appreciating some of her common sense and implicit teaching, despite her lack of formal education.

Like my mom, I value the importance of my family, friends and connections; I appreciate loyalty and commitment; I have and am not afraid of sharing my voice and opinion; I love trying new things and adventures; I am not a wasteful person; I enjoy socializing with people; I appreciate what I have no matter how little; I am versatile and can roll with the punches; I am a survivor in tough and difficult times; I have so many more common characteristics as my mom.

On this Mother’s Day, I remember my mother and all her AWESOMENESS that I hope I have, that I hope our children will one day come to appreciate and may be even inherit. Thanks mom, you gave me more than your looks, and I don’t mind looking like you at all; I also hope that, wherever you are in heaven, you know your children appreciate you.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the AWESOME moms!

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This was shared with me on Facebook and I thought it accurately captured how often we don’t stop and smell the roses, listen to the music and appreciate the beauty and people around us … AWESOME!!!  Read on below the photo
Amt Für Vollständigkeit’s Photos
A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.
A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.
A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist.
Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the top musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written,with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.
Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour:

Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

(repost by Das Amt für Vollständigkeit)

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