Zada Corbin Smith

MOM

I love my mother dearly, and I want her to be honored for all she has contributed to the lives of my father, my brother and me and all the kindergartners she has taught over the years.

I remember my mother rocking me to sleep when I was sick in the old rocker. Even back then it was an antique but I didn't know that. I thought it was just an old rocker. But it sure had a nice squeak as Mom rocked me in it and that would put me to sleep.

I remember getting the two-week measles -- every childhood disease back then put you out of school for either one week or two -- and my mom taking time off from her teaching responsibilities to take care of me. She made me potato soup with a dot of butter floating on the top. I loved that potato soup.

I learned the basis of everything I know about early childhood education from my mom before I even went to Iowa State. Throughout college I helped in her kindergarten classroom at every opportunity, usually during quarter break. Every November -- that's when quarter break was -- I would help her do the clay handprints that the kids gave their parents for Christmas every year. I learned how to make this activity a learning experience for all of us involved.

Unbeknownst to me, my mom grieved as I struggled with an unworkable first marriage. She celebrated the happiness and success of my second marriage. She is always there when I need her.

Mom cared for my father and kept him alive for years in spite of his bad heart until he finally succumbed to a cancer that love could not hold in abeyance. With her usual determination she has carved out a new life for herself, keeping busy with activities that she enjoys and enhance lives for others.

Thank you, Mom.

Submitted on 4/10/94