On a damp, dreary, stay-in-the-house kind of afternoon, I was a six-year-old artist armed with a new treasure. My green big box of crayons. Quite naturally, the usual sheet of paper borrowed from mom’s study wasn’t interesting enough for these 36 waxy, sweet-smelling vivid color sticks. I looked around for a bigger canvas. The walls were indeed inviting, yet strictly forbidden landscape. If only there were hidden walls, where I could conceal my artwork! I found one at last. The walls mom and dad’s closet would be the perfect place to begin.
I quietly slipped down the hall to the bedroom… stood on tiptoe to reach the perfect corner. Using all my strength, I pushed aside the heavy clothes and shut the door behind me. Words and images filled my mind faster than my hands could move. Bright reds, sky blues, bright explosive yellows and oranges, vivacious greens, shades of browns and many more — it took quite a lot of effort to create the masterpiece!
A brilliant rainbow arched across the wall, with a bright golden sun peeping out from above. Below, was a lush green field with stick-figure children. Around them, flowers bloomed in different colors. Then I drew my golden white cat with its curious blue eyes and long black whiskers.
My masterpiece! My very own magic… with all its colors and brightness. A sense of joy filled me. With a feeling of over-enthusiasm, I just couldn’t wait to show it to mom, and then suddenly I came back to really. My animated eyes looked around, turned pale. Oh God! What had I done?
Mom called out, “Come for lunch dear.” In no time, her footsteps approached. The closet door remained opened. I stood nervously in the corner, still clutching the navy blue crayon in a sweaty fist, butterflies in my stomach. Moms sighed, then stood frozen. Only her eyes moved as she slowly looked over my masterpiece. She was quiet for a long time. I guess a very long time. I didn’t dare breathe.
Finally, she turned to me. “I like it,” she exclaimed. “No, I just loved it! It’s you who’ve made it! So cute, I feel like I have a new closet!”
Three decades later, as I flipped through my family album, my eyes stopped at my childhood artwork. “Oh no, when did mom take that photo?” It’s amazing! Despite we moving to a new, bigger house much later, she has saved my masterpiece. I looked at mom who was watching my amused expressions. We both smiled and then had a hearty laugh. I realize now, no matter how big that box of crayons and white walls seemed to me when I was young, my mother’s love was the biggest thing of all!