What I Learned From My Mother

by Carol Cone


I learned that every woman should know how to make white sauce,
That it is the most important ingredient upon which many meals rest
Like creamed tuna, creamed chipped beef, creamed salmon and peas
It makes a can of something into a whole meal, she said;
I learned that you should wear gloves and a hat to church
I learned that old ladies who have lost their husbands
Need a lot of hugs, like grandma
I learned that baking soda was good for brushing teeth
When you couldn’t afford toothpaste
Or salt will do almost as well

I learned that you didn’t have to buy books because
The public library owned all the books there are
And you can borrow them all the time.
I learned that bread and butter with brown sugar on top
Is as good as cake for dessert.
I learned to lick an ice cream cone around and around
So that no drips ever ran down the side.
I learned that making my own dresses is more fun
Than buying them in a store
A twenty-five cent pattern with two dollars’ worth of fabric
And a bit of effort will turn out a fine dress
And nobody will have one like it.

I learned to darn socks, weaving the threads in and out
Across and down, until you had a perfectly woven square
Where the hole had been;
I learned the lessons the depression had taught her
That no leftover was too small to keep
That every empty jar had a purpose,
That nothing should ever be discarded
Unless it was outgrown, worn out, or beyond repair.

I learned that you love your children
No matter what they say or do
No matter how often they break your heart
You’re always there when they need you.
That’s what mothers do.