The word “SOLA” in Spanish translates to “Alone”. The state of being alone, one in which my sisters, mother and I shared day by day during my childhood. The day my father abandoned us, myself at fifteen years old my sisters only thirteen, nine and six, that day our mother was newly born. My mother a single child herself, an immigrant, was familiarized with loneliness. She longed for her daughters to have the family she never did, life had ironically played a joke on her, and once again she was alone with her daughters facing a new reality. Among her pain and depression also thrived her desire to offer her daughters a better future. My mother worked multiple jobs consecutively to provide for myself and siblings. Many nights I pretended to be asleep, I heard her weep in the silence of the night praying for strength to endure the hardship of her reality, to heal her broken heart. My mother asked God for joy, to be able to fill our hearts with love and avoid resentment towards our father. I now only comprehend the extent of my mother's pain, her resilience and her love towards my sisters and me. A love so powerful, unmeasurable, unconditional and pure. g adversities. I was a second mother to my sisters, a very strict inpatient parent. At a very early age, I learned the extensive influence my behavior had on my sisters. I had to be disciplined and portray an exemplary role model for them to follow. A decade later, as a mother of my own child, I realized the gift and burden of having a single parent. My mother unintentionally taught me a lot more than just to care for my siblings. My mother taught me to be cautious, always aware of my surroundings, to trust no one and to protect the family at all costs. Not only did my mother teach me to cook and care for our home, but she also taught me to cherish the blessings of a warm meal and to appreciate the little of what we had. Today I value the ordinary, the gift of every day, In such a materialist world in which we exist today, I find the smallest little things to be which fill me with the most joy. My mother thought to change the car's eroded windshield wipers, switch a spare tire, or make small fixtures around the house; she also taught me to find solutions, thrive and be independent. To have been raised this way has its advantages but also consequences. I have learned to be very cautious about whom I open to and trust my emotions. Finding the correct romantic partner seems impossible, many unresolved emotions still linger related to my father's abandonment. A particular memory lingers in my head to this day. A cold winter my mother was unable to pay the electric utility and lost power for three days. We all cuddled tightly and slept together inside a carpeted closet over piles of blankets. She had used an empty can over a candle to heat milk and ease our sleep. Ironically, this memory brings nostalgia. Although the situation was harsh, my mother turned it into a loving bonding time. Moments as such remind me that we hold the power to transform any situation from bad to good. My mother is my father, best friend, sister; she is all. She can fit any role that needs to be fulfilled. I will forever be thankful and admire the resilient fierce woman whom I call My Mother.