Give What You Can
This lesson was again learned from one of my parents. This time my mother was the one who gave the lesson. My mother had polio as a young child; hence, my concern about her health I mentioned in yesterday’s post. She had coped for many years with a metal plate in her leg and scoliosis of her spine. Each year our church back home had a big Chicken Barbeque on Fourth of July. Each year my mother baked many, many pies for this event.
When I was 24 my mother called me to make sure that I would be coming home for the holiday because she wanted my help in baking pies for the church picnic. I said I would be there to help, and she said good because there were fewer women who had volunteered for pie baking.
Well, at 24, I was not the responsible, reliable, predictable person I am today, and as young daughters will do, I arrived late with a hangover. My mother didn’t say a word. She just threw the apron at me and told me to start slicing apples for her famous Dutch Apple pie. We worked in silence for what seemed like an eternity to me until I finally broke the silence with this question “so, is your leg aching today or is it your back”?
She flew around to face me, and with that look that only a mother can give, she said through clenched teeth “I am in pain every day of my life. This is not about pain, but about giving. I gave based on what you told me you would give to me—help. Because you did not see my giving as a priority I may not be able to give what I said I would. You give what you can and I do but because you did not give what you could I may be short my giving”. There was little I could say, but I began to work a bit more efficiently and faster, and we were able to make good on my mom’s promise to the other church ladies.
When I laid in that hospital bed for days on end needing help to eat, to dress, to accomplish the most basic of needs there was little I could give. What I could give was a smile and a thank you which I did often and freely. It was easy to remember my mother’s axiom of “You give what you can based on what you can accomplish”.
My doctors, nurses, and caregivers told me when I left how much they had appreciated my smiles and “thank yous”. They mentioned that my family and friends never failed to thank them, too. They told me it wasn’t necessary, but it was greatly appreciated. Sometimes, a smile and thank you is enough for those who give to you.