God gave us mothers to nurture us into growth on our journey to adulthood. This is Mother’s Day and set aside to honor our Moms. Often Moms are surprised by their adult children’s stories of their childhoods. How does anyone survive childhood, anyway?
I had a teacher when I was in eighth grade who was difficult for me. Maybe I was difficult for her, too. She didn’t like the way I wore my hair and called me a name. Repeatedly.
Let it be known that even as an eighth grader, I loved history. Anne Frank’s story captured me early on. I read her diary that depicted her and her family’s captivity as they hid from Hitler’s German Nazi government. Anne, during this hiding time, was close to my age when I discovered her story. Her family nearly made it alive through WWII, but the Nazi’s found them and they all died in the concentration camps.
I next found Corrie ten Boom’s book, “The Hiding Place”. She told the story of how she and her family hid Jews during that same time period from the Nazi’s in Holland. They all got caught and Corrie was the only one to survive the concentration camps and tell the world.
After that, I read even more about that time period. I couldn’t believe such things could really happen to people. But they did.
My eighth grade teacher was a German who escaped Nazi Germany. The name she repeatedly called me was “Hitler”. To me, he was the personification of evil. I went home crying after school, believing she was calling me evil.
Every day my Mom asked why I was crying. I wouldn’t tell her. Finally one day she insisted on knowing. After I told her, she disappeared. Years later, I found out that she stormed straight over to the school to confront the teacher.
“I’m in a meeting now, can we schedule a time for this later?”
“I don’t care about your meeting. I care about my daughter. We are going to have this talk right now, either in private or in front of these people.”
I guess my teacher left her meeting. The next day she apologized to me. That was a big thing in my life. Maybe it made a difference in what road I would eventually travel. What we believe about ourselves determines our choices and our actions. My Mom did battle for me and an evil root was stopped from sprouting in my soul.
Thank you, Mom, for going to bat for me that day. I remember other things you did, too, like the day to day stuff, and especially special occasion family parties. I loved my 9th birthday party at Nat Park. That beat them all! But I’ll never forget how you stood up for me to my teacher.
I love you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.
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