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My Mother Is A Teacher (A Reflection)

"Do you want to be loved or do you want to love?"
Mom had a subtle grin on her face. I knew that she was trying to teach me something because she always got that grin on her face. What I needed to decide was whether or not I wanted to learn today's lesson.
Mom patiently kneaded her dough. Her homemade bread was so good. I used to sit on a little wooden bench and watch the entire process. I never learned how to bake bread though.
"I don't see why I should have to choose." I mumbled. I decided that there was no right answer, only an opinion.
"You will have to choose." Mom smiled this time. It was a mental game of chess that I had no idea I was playing. For some reason, I felt like no move was going to be the right move.
"I think that two people can love each other equally and be happy. No one person should do all of the loving. I think its negative to think that you should have to choose."
Mom continued kneading.
I continued to express my opinion.
"Its best that two people love each other and I don't think you should have to choose such a thing. Thats just sad."
I was out of steam. I had nothing else to say other than how much I felt that I shouldn't have to even ponder such a question. I became peeved that she even posed the question. Years later, I fell desparately in love. I've loved at least three or four different men in my life time. Each time, I have left with more wisdom and experience than I had before.
I don't bake bread, because I never learned.
But I know now that I want to be loved, because I learned.

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