Chapter 14 - The Boy Who Once Wanted the Floor to Swallow Him Walked Across a Graduation Stage With His Mother Waiting in the Front RowFour years later, I graduated.
Mom sat in the front row.
She wore a simple dress.
No uniform.
No medals.
Just my mother.
When my name was called, I walked across the stage.
The applause was loud.
But I didn't look at the crowd.
I looked at her.
She stood.
She was crying.
I smiled.
After the ceremony, she hugged me.
“You did it.”
“We did.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
She touched my face.
“You did.”
I smiled.
“Remember what you told me?”
“What?”
“You don't need applause to know what you've accomplished.”
She laughed.
May you like
“You remembered.”
“Always.”
