This I Believe

An Ode to My Mother

My mother has a gift,

an ever-endearing charm.

This power, I hope to behold,

has been lovingly deemed

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

Single motherhood is a daunting task.

Little time,

scarce resources,

extensive exhaustion.

Through it all, she would

lift her chin and respond,

with the imaginative grace that was,

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

Transforming our living room

into a meadow.

Spreading towels across the floor,

an indoor carpet picnic.

Triangle sandwiches and carrot sticks,

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

Our kitchen would double

as an ice skating rink as she

lathered it with soap and water.

Lost in laughter and twirling

we were oblivious to the inevitable

completion of a would-be daunting chore.

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

When I came home from school,

with a rip in my jeans

no sewing machine at hand,

hot glue it was.

My jeans, again wearable.

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

Our staircase became the track

for an indoor sledding tournament.

Sleeping bags as sleds,

ready to ride.

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

“Why don’t we ever go out for dinner?”

The naive groan that came from my brothers

and myself.

She brought home fresh tortilla chips

from the restaurant down the street.

Adding just what was needed to

make cheese quesadilla night special.

“Close enough!” She’d say,

my brothers and I more than content.

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

She came to me one day,

needing help.

No longer a child,

an ally, a teammate.

A request to choose which books I could spare

to help mom have resources to continue to make

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

I began to notice the

strain

stress

and worry.

This power my mother held, carried

much weight.

Allowing myself and my brothers a sense of

normalcy was wearing her thin.

However, it never stopped her from

continuing to make,

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

I soon understood that the box of misfit canned goods

and pasta packets hadn’t come from

Wal-mart.

My mother, never discouraged,

would turn the contents of

that box

into a culinary adventure.

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

I realized that in order for my mother

to feel the need to exercise her power,

there was a variable I hadn’t considered.

That sneaky “Nothing” hit me hard. It was personal.

Our life wasn’t “Nothing”

We had carpet picnics,

indoor ice skating and sledding.

Fresh and salty tortilla chips.

But this was so, because my mother

gave all of her love through her ability

to incite imagination.

The power of

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

allowed me to feel like I had

everything.

As an activist

and a person who cares about other people,

living by the

“Somethin’ outta Nothin’”

philosophy

revealed a new way of thinking.

We are only as different from others

as we allow ourself to think we are.

There is always a way.

To make effective change.

To help.

To care.

To support.

To love.

I believe in making “Somethin’ outta Nothin’”