Answer and Explanation:
I was only twelve. The gymnasium seemed so big, but this time it did not intimidate me. This one as well as others had intimidated me for weeks, but now I had conquered them. It had been my very first time competing in a volleyball tournament for my school, and we had won. All the nervousness and anxiety, all that yelling from the coach and teammates had been worth it. We lined up, side by side, facing the seats. My mother and younger brother were there, smiling, happy to see me happy. My mother had made a point of driving me to every single game and watching them to the very end. Somehow, it felt as if the medal I was about to receive was hers as much as it was mine.
All of a sudden, her presence was made even more important. Someone had the idea of inviting the parents onto the court to place the medals around our eager necks. No one else’s parents were there; at least for my team. I was sorry for them, but there she came. She was now everyone’s mother, giving each of my teammates their respective medals and a congratulatory hug. We were all her children for a moment, and sharing my mother had never made me happier.
NOTE: I based this in my real-life experience. Feel free to change anything in order to adapt it to your life.
You have not informed which Mark Twain story you are referring to, which makes it impossible to answer your question. However I can help you by showing what a simile is and what its effect is within a story.
A simile is a figure of speech that has the ability to compare two objects, beings or situations, which are very different from each other, but which have a certain similarity that allows this comparison to be made. In other words, we can say that the simile is a comparison of different but analogous elements.
Within a text, the simile is used to extend a meaning and better explain an argument, making the comparison so that the meaning of something is easily perceived and established.
An example of this can be seen in the following sentence, which was written by Mark Twain: "Dan'l give a heave, and hysted up his shoulders so like a Frenchman, but it wan's no use he couldn't budge; he was planted as solid as an anvil, and he couldn't no more stir than if he was anchored out."
