Language Lessons

Missing my Mom today...

Mom (third from the left) with five of her eight brothers.

Some ninety-two years ago this year,

On Alberta’s new frontier.

My Mama started school that day,

In Millicent, not too far away.

Swedish was what she knew best,

And not a word of all the rest.

But for this day, that pint-sized girl

Would, English, give a little whirl.

Her mama coached her carefully,

On what to say at Teacher’s knee.

The words that would the class transfix?

“My nom Enes, I’m halfpastsix.”

Clutching book in little hand,

Mama entered ‘No-Girl’s Land’,

Then sat down in the nearest seat,

And tried to make herself discreet.

But Teacher saw her sitting there,

With press-ed dress and flaxen hair,

And called to her to please advance,

And of her schoolmates, get a glance.

My Mama went, but she was tense,

She did not want to be thought dense,

So, hoping they would not despise, 

Recited what she’d memorized.

But when her class did mock with glee,

The words she’d said so carefully.

My Mom, their teasing did abhor,

Wished she could sink right through the floor.

From then, my Mom deliberately,

Forgot her Swedish publicly,

And ever after English spoke, 

When e're she talked with other folk.

Before you sympathize too much, 

Blame kids that did make fun and such,

Please note Mom didn’t cry or bawl...

Scholastically outpaced them all.