It was 1987 when my mother drove a rusty Renault Encore—small, unattractive, and frequently breaking down. I was aware enough to feel embarrassed and would insist she drop me off a block away from school so that my peers would think I had walked there.
Financial struggles meant we could never afford to take that clunker to a mechanic, who likely would have suggested we send it to the junkyard. One night, after another frustrating evening contemplating her car’s unreliability, she stumbled across an infomercial and ordered a series of DIY auto repair books.
Determined to take matters into her own hands, my mother dedicated that summer to learning how to fix the car herself. She mastered everything from changing tires and oil to fixing the emergency brake. She jumped the car countless times, replaced belts, brakes, spark plugs, and even the clutch. By summer’s end, that Encore had dodged the junkyard so many times that we started to wonder if it could withstand anything.
Just before the school year began, my mom received a call from the university, where she had submitted her resume for a temp-secretary position. Landing that job would mean financial stability—enough to put food on the table and keep the lights on. But would the Encore make it for the 25-minute drive north?
The evening before her big interview, my mom practiced speed typing and dictation on our electric typewriter. By afternoon, our neighbor had lent her a stylish navy blue dress and beige pumps to help her appear professional.
On the day of the interview, she rushed us through our morning routine and dropped me off at school 45 minutes earlier than necessary to avoid interstate traffic. I spent the day chatting with friends about sunburns and boys, but I couldn’t shake my worry for her.
Later that night, she recounted her day with excitement. She had arrived 15 minutes early and made a positive impression on the human resources manager. The interview lasted an hour, and she felt confident answering all the common questions she had rehearsed.
When the interview concluded, she returned to the parking lot and heard a dreadful noise as she approached the Encore. A puff of smoke escaped from the back; the muffler had fallen off. Without hesitating, she removed her borrowed shoes, grabbed a floor mat, and knelt down in the parking lot to make a temporary fix.
The HR manager, witnessing my mother’s determination, approached her and asked if she needed assistance. My mom smiled and replied, “That’s very kind of you, but I can handle this myself. It just takes a little grit and tenacity.” Remarkably, she was offered the job on the spot.
A few months later, that car finally gave up for good, but I was never again embarrassed to be seen getting dropped off at school.
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In summary, my mother taught me the importance of perseverance and self-reliance. By tackling challenges head-on and believing in her abilities, she not only overcame obstacles but also set a powerful example for me.