The next 6 years were an endurance run for both of us. I studied with a tutor twice a week until I could haltingly read my lessons. Each night， my mom and I sat at my little desk and rehearsed that day’s schoolwork for at least 2 hours， sometimes until midnight. We drilled for tests until my head pounded and the print blurred before my eyes. At least twice a week， I wanted to quit. I had the strength of a kitten， but my mom’ s courage never wavered.
She’d rise early to pray over my school day. 1000 times I heard her say， “Lord， open Peter’s mind today. Help him remember the things we studied.”
Her vision reached beyond the 3 R’s. Twice I won at statewide speech competitions. I participated in school programmes and earned a license to work as an announcer on a local radio station.
Then my mother developed chronic migraines during my senior year. She blamed the headaches on stress. Some days the intense pain kept her in bed. Still she’d come to my room in the evening， wearing her robe， an ice pack in her hand， to study with me.
We laughed and cried when I passed my senior finals. Two days before graduation I talked to my mother and father about Bible college. I wanted to go， but I was afraid.
Mom said， “Apply at the Bible Institute in our town. You can live at home， and I’ll help you.”
I put my arms around her and hugged her close， a baseball-sized lump in my throat.
A week after graduation， my mom felt a stabbing pain in her head. She became disoriented for just a moment， but seemed to be all right. It was another migraine， she thought， so she went to bed. That night Dad tried to wake her. She was unconscious.
A few hours later， a white-coated doctor told us Mom had an aneurysm that had burst. A massive hemorrhage left us no hope. She died 2 days later.
My grief almost drowned me. For weeks I walked the floor all night， sometimes weeping， sometimes staring at nothing. Did I have a future without my mother？ She was my eyes， my understanding， my life. Should I still enroll in Bible School？ The thought of going on alone filled me with terror. But， deep inside， I knew I had to move on to the next step， for her.