I remember when I was attending elementary school that one of the least enjoyable parts was the use of the school bus. While there were some bus drivers that were friendly and did their best to make the experience safe and enjoyable, there was one in particular (who was assigned to the route that I used) who seemed irritated with the inconvenience of ferrying children to and from school. I never once saw them smile, and when they spoke, it was laced with condescension.
I was in the unfortunate position of being one of a small number that got off at a certain stop. Of that number, I was the only one that crossed the street. Of course, normally this required the driver to exit the bus and hold a stop sign up to assist the student in crossing, but my six-year-old heart was not brave enough to confront the disagreeable driver and request this service. Instead, I developed what seemed at the time to be a brilliant solution that would allow me to get home without having to face the scary bus driver. I would get off the bus and feign as though I was following the other children who went down the opposite way, without crossing. Then, when the bus was gone, I would cross the street myself.
This method worked for a couple months, and it seemed to be a great solution... however, one day, the angry driver shouted to me as we approached my stop. She told me that she had seen me crossing the street, and that she could get in trouble for that. She told me I should ride to the next stop and cross the street there, where she was already getting off the bus. Of course I was horrified that my technique had been discovered. (Only later I realized that this bus driver was not as observant as I had initially believed, since she had neglected using her mirrors for two months.) At any rate, I did as I was told.
When I arrived at home, my mom immediately noticed that I was upset. I did not divulge the details of the event, but gave a general complaint about the bus driver.
After some time, I decided it would be a great idea to return to my previous method, as it would allow me to return home much quicker than going all the way to the next stop and backtracking. Except, in a hurry to get home, I went behind the bus and ran across the road. The bus driver noticed me and shouted something in an angry tone. Though I do not know what she had yelled, I felt ashamed and guilty, and ran home. My mom calmed me down enough to learn that her six-year-old son had been expected to go to another stop to cross for the convenience of the driver. I saw a fire in her eyes that I have never forgotten. She stormed out the door and ran down the street, where the bus was stopped to allow other children to cross. I have no idea what my mom said to her, but every day for the remainder of the year, the bus driver got out of her seat, grabbed her stop sign, and walked me across the street without speaking another word to me.
There was never any doubt that my mom loved me. She repeatedly went to bat for my siblings and I whenever we needed. She volunteered in our classes, she encouraged us in pursuing musical talent, she supported us in athletic competitions. She exemplified a woman determined not to outsource the nurture of her children to anyone else, regardless of the opportunity costs for pursuing her own entertainment or enjoyment.
She was not the type of mother that sought personal recognition by earning scout awards for her boys... in fact, she remained loving and supportive even when her boys discovered how much they disliked such programs. If she was disappointed in how I neglected developing skills on the piano or the trumpet, she did not express it in any way that made me feel less valued.
In hindsight, it was as though my mom had confidence in us and our potential beyond what we were. It was as though she knew that we would turn out alright in spite of our flaws. As I grew older, and struggled with self-doubt and discouragement, the confidence of my mother proved to be extremely valuable. That is not to say that I have become a billionaire whose philanthropic efforts have saved millions of lives... but I have a beautiful wife and wonderful children, and the traditions and values that my mom worked tirelessly to pass on to me have been invaluable to our family... and though I have probably not always done the things she might have preferred, her kindness has been constant.
Though my mom has not always been a resource for evaluating calculus problems, balancing chemical equations, or analyzing the logic of computer code, no amount of help in these areas can replace what she has been to me. Thinking of her reminds me of the sentiment of the Apostle Paul... "...whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away" but charity never faileth. (1 Corinthians 13)
I am certain I am not alone among those expressing appreciation for their mothers, particularly on Mother's Day... but it is my hope that we might be more appreciative of the women that work tirelessly to forge each building block in society... surely these heroes should not remain "unsung".
