Hello mom, I came again,
Don't worry, I came out of school and came.
I don't know if mothers wonder like fathers, but
My friend Ali said, "If I do not go to school, my mother will be very angry."

Last week the teacher put garlic in my right hand,
In my left hand an onion
He taught me my right and my left.
I know now mom, where my right side and where my left side is,
Now I know exactly which side of me hurts , mom…
You remember, when I came last, it hurt here, I said that here,
I couldn't tell my sore side, mom,
Look now I'm saying.
Here is my left side, it hurts so much mom,
It hurts every day, mom every day…
Yesterday morning, her mother plaited Ayşe's hair.
She grabbed her daughter and brought her to school.
Her collar was also lace. The mom kissed her daughter when the bell rang. “Come on, baby, go to the class.” She said…
I cried … I cried, I cried without shame.
The teacher asked what happened. “I fell down, I said my knee hurts a lot.” I said.
I lied, mom,
My knee didn't hurt, but my left side was hurting, mom!
I wanted to have a plait today.
My father did it but it was not like hers.
I wanted a lace collar from my dad. He said I don't know my daughter
I said: “Take me at least to school.”
"Work, my daughter," he said. I said "I don’t care" and cried.
"My daughter, I need to bring bread home," said my father.
I was quite. But on the way to school I cried again, mother.
Ha one more, my left side hurts again mom…
Everyone has white socks, mine is like gray.
"My mother was washing the whites without adding colored clothes," said Zeynep.
My father is washing them all together,
Doesn't my father know how to do laundry, mom?
Oh, my dad puts tomato cheese in my lunchbox every day.
I don’t say anything not be offend him but,
My friends bring cookies, pies and cakes every day.
I know my father doesn't know how to make a cake.
It's getting dark, I'll go mother,
My father doesn't know that I run away and come to you.
If he hears, he will not be angry, but I know he will be very upset.
Who mixes your soil, who plugs the flowers!
Don't let them mother, don't let them hold your soil!
It comes to my mind when I go home. Then I start to cry for this mother.
Look at the jar next to me, let me take another hand of your soil.
You know, mother, all the time I come to you I take some of your soil and save it in this jar,
I pasted your picture on it, put it on my bedside.
Every morning I kiss her, I smell her.
Don't tell anyone, but mom, sometimes I talk to her.
What should I do, I miss you so much, mom.
Let me tell you this before I forget! Our teacher said:
“Write an article describing your mother for tomorrow".
I will tell my father to write.
If the teacher understands, he will be very angry, but I don’t care if he is angry.
I have never seen you, how can I write about you, mother,
When your name is mentioned, my left side hurts mom, I can't swallow anything.
Sometimes I cannot resist and cry. I can't write that on paper either, mom.
I'm going mom, let me kiss your land and come to my dream, kiss me,
You must come, mom. When you don't come to my dream,
I wake up with the pain on my left side mom
My left side hurts mom. Here it is,
Mom left side hurts so much.
I miss you so much, mom… mom…