What My Mom Taught Me

One year, my mom and dad posted their New Year’s Resolution on the fridge for everyone to see. “This year, we will welcome everyone into our home with a glad heart.” This is one of the most important things that have I learned from watching my mom move in the world.

My mom is a great fixer of things, and there is not much that she doesn’t think she is in charge of fixing. On her drive to work, she used to pass a homeless woman on Cotton Street. The homeless woman was bundled up in layers of clothes and had a too small sign asking for help. She sometimes held the sign up side down or turned the words towards her, instead of towards the intended audience. The sign was poorly written. Some words were misspelled. The sign also said that she needed the money for a drink, which my mom thought was a little counterproductive. As a writer and an editor, a person whose life is words, this was much more than my mom could bear. She couldn’t take it anymore. One day, she drove down to that corner with a big sign and some markers and she worked with the homeless woman on producing a more legible sign that better served its purpose.

Turns out that the woman’s name was Jeanne. In her fixing, my mom got to know Jeanne. She would stop by and visit sometimes. She got to know Jeanne’s story. Turns out Jeanne wanted money, not for beer, but for food and water. Mom explained that the sign would lead people to believe otherwise. My mom would fill me in sometimes. I think my mom tried to get her some help, find her a place to stay, but Jeanne was at that corner with her own purpose. She would not be moved. But I bet she was glad for the conversation, glad to have someone stop by and visit and want to know her.

My mom charges in to fix things and fix people. She sees a problem she wants it solved. That is her impulse always. It never quite works out the way she saw it, charging in. But what always happens is that my mom opens up a glad and welcome heart and it is that act of welcome, more than anything else my mom has to give, that helps people, that changes things.

This is my mom’s gift. She did not come by it naturally. She works hard at it. She recognizes in her actions what so few of us recognize: we will probably never have much luck in changing people, but in changing ourselves and making ourselves welcoming of just about anyone, we can change the world.

For the last 30 years, my mom has charged up and down Louisville Street with her fix-it-up spirit. She would like some of the men to quit drinking. She would like the man on the corner to fix up his house. She wants one of our neighbors, a renter, to be able to buy the house from the stingy landlord. She worries over some of the kids in the neighborhood, wants to warn them off of the path they have taken. She would like me to not work as much and spend more time at home. She knows all of our stories, she pays attention to all of us, she worries over all of us. We all depend on her.

This last year was a hard year for the neighborhood. A young boy whose father grew up in the neighborhood was killed in a gang fight. The boy’s dad grew up two houses down from me. His mom and sisters still live there. After his son died, he would often wander over to my mom’s house. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to talk to my mom. He would talk about his anger and his grief and his guilt. My mom would listen. Even after he left the neighborhood, he still needed what my mom had to give: a glad and a welcome heart that he could depend on.

So, remember this:

1. Our moms have a lot to teach us.
2. We should be the change we want in the world.

Note: This is from a speech that my mother and I delivered at the Ysleta Independent School District Mother Daughter Conference.