My Mom

I was thinking about my mom's career and marveling once again. My mom was a counselor for the Women's Care Center here in Erie. Scared, pregnant young women would come to her, needing help, and she would lovingly help them get through the situation they were in and give them a boost into a better life. Sometimes she would help facilitate adoptions, other times she would invite them to come live with us until they could get back on their feet. I don't actually remember the Christmas Eve that a prostitute had dinner with us, but it makes for a great example of the way my mom brought her "work" home with her. She loved this job- this stressful, sometimes terrifying job that allowed her to help people and show them the gospel in action.

So when she left that job to stay home and homeschool us, she made a sacrifice that I'm not sure I'll ever understand. She was saving lives when she pointed scared, unsure mothers toward adoption. She broke cycles of abuse and misery when she gave hurting women a new home. And yet she knew that her children were more important than any of that. This blows my mind, quite frankly.

I know I was a big part of the reason for this career change. I was in 5th grade and struggling in school. I cried on the drive to school in the mornings. I cried at home. I was friendless and despondent. My parents saw the situation and weren't content to leave it alone. (I want to mention briefly that I had an incredible teacher at this time. None of my struggles were because of her. She was the kind of teacher that made you want to dive into books full of adventure and expand your imagination and when she read aloud to us, it was the greatest treat. But even with an amazing teacher, I was not doing well. I needed more.)

My mom stayed at home with my sisters and me (my brothers were older and mostly done with school) and our unconventional education began. We traipsed about historical locations and read plaques and pamphlets ad nauseam. We baked bread once a week, all gathered around the long, flour-covered dining room table, thumping and bumping the bread dough. We wrestled with math, grappled with grammar, and splashed into literature. These were the days I learned to love Shakespeare and dislike Dickens. We would read history out loud while my mom knitted and interjected her comments on various eras. We studied Greek and Latin root words and that is when I fell in love with the mystery of our language. I learned how to cook, how to keep to a budget, and how to refinish furniture. These were the days when I learned that all of life is school.

Please understand me, I'm not saying that all women need to quite their jobs to stay home and teach their children basket weaving. This is just my family's story. For my mom and for her children, it was the right choice. She left a job she loved to be with her kids whom she loved more. She gave us a great childhood and an amazing and unique education. I'm eternally thankful for this gift. She didn't just give us her time and energy, she gave us herself.

Thank you, God, for my mom's willingness to sacrifice for us. I'm starting to understand that now. Help me to be more like her.