I was all of thirteen years old when I learned a valuable lesson from my mother.  The lesson wasn’t anything she sat down patiently to explain to me, but it was one she taught at the end of a broom—a broom I saw hovering over her head (and mine) as I ran to hide in our back yard to escape her pending blow. 

My cousin and I had been in the front yard of our house skating. He was about nine.  And a spicy one, always causing trouble and fighting with his sister. They would often chase each other around the house, screaming at the top of their lungs for the other to “stop touching me”, or “don’t tease me.”  “Give it back!” she would shout, as he ran through the living room and found refuge in circling the large coffee table to escape her grasping hands.

That day, I was enjoying the brand new white leather skates with red wheels my mother had recently purchased. It was a comfortable summer day, and a host of other kids were on the block riding bikes, playing with hula-hoops, jumping rope, skating or playing tag.  Our block was a dead end at the time, so some kids fanned out into the middle of the street and played red-light green-light.  I remember smiling, knowing that once I had exhausted myself from skating, I would probably jump a bit of rope and then retreat under my awning with a glass of punch.  We would always get our milk and juice from the neighborhood store where they packaged the milk.  It was amazing watching the machine carry the boxes along a track to where the milk poured from a giant vat.  That’s where we bought our no name brand milk.  My mother wasn’t much into name brands, but as a child, I didn’t notice. The juice was refreshing and good, and that was all that mattered.

As I skated about, enjoying the contentment of my moment, my cousin came along and decided that harassing his sister was not enough pleasure for him. So he decided to agitate me. All was well until he hit me. In a fury, I threw off my skates and began chasing him down the block. He circled around and back to the house. Before I could reach him, he had already grabbed one of my skates and thrown it into the street. Furious, I ran inside to my mother to inform her that he had thrown my skate into the street and that he needed to go pick it up, or else.  My five seconds of satisfaction with telling on him for this gross injustice abruptly ended when my mother, in a flurry of anger said, “You little SOB, I paid good money for those skates and you are going to leave them in the street?!”  She then proceeded to grab a broom that I quickly realized was her tool of choice to hit me with that day.

I ran out of the house and around to the back yard, my mother hot on my heels, the broom in the air. I tore off around the house, back to the front, grabbed my skates, including the one in the street, and hid myself in the brush of our back yard.  I was in a state of confusion.  I sat amongst the wildlife, feeling somewhat unwelcome and prayed that it didn’t rain before she calmed down.  How could this injustice be turned on me? Why was I in trouble and my cousin was the one who did the terrible thing?

I don’t remember when I realized the reason for my mother’s anger or the wisdom in the lesson she taught me that day, albeit behind anger. Basically, it doesn’t matter who does what to my belongings, spirit or emotions, they are mine, and I need to guard them with everything I have.  I need to take charge of them and be responsible for them.  I should care about these things when no one else will. And in the end, they don’t have to care, but I do, because I will be the one who loses if I don’t. Had a car run over my skates, my mother would not have purchased another pair for me. I would have lost my skates just as quickly as I had received them.

It didn’t matter what my cousin did, just as it doesn’t matter what anyone in our lives does. WE must be the one who cares about us. We must protect our property, whether it be physical or spiritual. We cannot leave the destiny of our livelihood in the hands of anyone.  We must be our first protectors and cheerleaders.  Believing in our inner strength and power is the first step to realizing that power.  And once we realize it, everyone else will realize it, and nothing can stand in our way. Because we will attract to ourselves what we believe is most important.

I no longer have those skates. But I have the memory of them and the lesson they have left on my heart--love me and all that I am blessed with, no matter what.