By Megan Jungwi

Mary Thomas is best known for the success of her NBA playing son Isiah Thomas. However her real success was in raising nine children single handedly in one of the poorest and most dangerous neighborhoods of Chicago. She was relentless in protecting her children from the drugs, gangs and violence in the area.

As the 1989 movie A Mother’s Courage: The Mary Thomas Story (produced and directed by Lanai Chapman)  famously depicts, Mary Thomas did everything within her power to keep her children safe. One day, when her youngest child, Isiah, was 12 years old, members of the Vice Lords came to her home demanding her seven sons join their gang. Mary would have none of it and fetched her sawed-off shotgun from her bedroom. She successfully asked the gang to move along.

Mary Thomas was determined to provide her children with the best environment she could. Although her children sometimes had to sleep on the floor without food or heat, Mary Thomas knew there were worse places her children could go. At one time case workers attempted to move her family into a violent housing project. Bravely, Mary went to Mayor Richard Daley to complain and tell him that she wasn’t going to go.

Although three of Mary’s children eventually succumbed to crime, her two daughters and four of her boys turned out just fine. Her son Isiah Thomas became a famous NBA basketball player who paid college tuition for over 75 young people throughout his career. Upon retirement from basketball he continued to do charity work in anti-crime and anti-poverty programs. Isiah Thomas has given his mother credit for his success throughout his life and it is easy to see why. Mary Thomas’s story continues to be an inspiration for many mothers facing similar challenges. Quite often the most courageous mothers are those who do their best to protect their children with what little resources they have.

From the Back Court to the Front Office: The Isiah Thomas Story

By Dana Plazyk

News spread around the world like wild fire when Connie Culp, mother of two and grandmother of two, gave her first interview at the Cleveland Clinic on May 5, 2009. Connie was the recipient of the first face transplant ever performed in the U.S. and she was happy and to show off her new face.

Her “new face” didn’t just imply a new physical look, but a new chapter in a story that began a little over five years ago in Ohio, when she was just 40.

This chapter in Connie’s story begins when in a split second her life is forever changed. “There were some good times and some bad times,” she said in an interview with Diane Sawyer of Good Morning America speaking about her marriage, “and that day I knew something bad was going to happen. I never expected it to be this.” In a fit of anger, her husband had shot her with a shotgun destroying 80% of her face. Connie was left with no jaw, nose or nerve endings and with hundreds of shotgun pellets and bone splinters embedded in what was left of her face.

Two months after the shooting, Dr. Risal Djohan of the Cleveland Clinic made her a promise: “He didn’t know if he could “fix” me, but he’d try.” Over the next five years, Connie underwent 27 surgeries to rebuild her face, enduring excruciating pain. But there was something about Connie that prevailed above all: her courage, humor and positive outlook on the whole ordeal. Even when being pointed at, or dubbed as a “monster” by children, she never gave up.

Finally, on December 10, 2008 in a procedure lead by Dr. Maria Siemionow, Connie received the face of an anonymous donor—a woman of about her age and her complexion—to whom she is eternally grateful. In a 22-hour procedure, surgeons attached some of the skeleton structure, nerves, tissues and a nose to her battered face. In the Cleveland Clinic press conference, Connie recalled her first thankful words: “I’ve got me my nose!” Later in the GMA interview she remembered what it was like smelling again after five years and sneezing for the first time. “I didn’t know what part to cover, “ she recalled. Another great experience came when she was able to eat a hamburger and pizza again. So many things most of us just take for granted…

Her story is not over. She will have to undergo more surgeries to continue the restructuring of her face. In the meantime, she pledges to tell her story and campaign against domestic violence. “If he threatens you, it’s going to happen,” she commented teary-eyed to Diane Sawyer. Her husband received a 7-year prison sentence, which he is currently serving.

Connie is thankful for many things these days—especially her “extended family” in which she includes her doctors, therapists, nurses and the anonymous family of the woman with whom she shares a face. She also thanks her daughter who has been with her throughout this ordeal.

Connie is inspired by the lyrics from Tim McGraw’s song “Live Like You Were Dying: And I loved deeper , And I spoke sweeter, And I gave forgiveness I’d been denyin’” The focus of everyday worries can change in a moment and she tell us : “When someone has a disfigurement…don’t judge them, because you never know what happened.”

In this age of beauty queens and celebrities, Connie reminds us that beauty really resides within the spirit. The story of Connie Culp is one that should be read and retold.

Crazy Love
Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men

By Veronica  Hankey

Many women today are honored for running exceptional business ventures. There is lofty praise and awards in recognition of these abilities. However it often takes a family or cultural tradition such as a Mother’s Day celebration to remind us of the significance of personal dreams and aspirations. Often the emotional equity of a wise and loving mother has generated more significant returns for both the family and broader community than a monetary investment ever could.

During my career as a community liaison officer I encountered people from all walks of life and part of my task was to organize social charity events. I spoke to the owner of Tiffanys, a quaint restaurant in my home town, and asked if she would be prepared to host a Mother’s Day breakfast for very special and important guests. Being an astute business woman she immediately approved the idea and we set about arranging an occasion that would make our guests proud. I then went to various communities and asked the children in the local schools for guest nominations. In addition they also had to provide a reason why this woman should be nominated as a VIP guest. The nominations ranged from the incredible, to stories that struck a deep, sentimental chord in our hearts.

One particular nominee had appartently been born from the union of a slave and the master of the house. Because they did not want to lose the good service of the slave, but also wanted to avoid the embarrassment of the baby, the newborn child was left in a local village church, just before the start of the morning service. The congregation were very poor folk and for the first few weeks the baby was sheltered in the church with various women taking turns to feed, change a nappy and just provide for the most basic needs of the newborn. The baby was a strong healthy little girl and was seldom heard crying in the church.

One day as the carer went in to do the feeding and changing she discovered that the cardboard box was completely empty. There was no sign of the baby. She quickly ran around the little village asking all the carers if they knew what had become of the baby. Nobody had a clue. Days turned into weeks and there was still no sign of the baby.

About a month after the mysterious event a police officer came to the village and enquired if a baby had gone missing from the community. One by one the women told the story of the abandoned girl found in the church. The officer then explained that a family from the nearby compound for engineers had found a baby girl on the steps of a home. Initially the woman of the house took on the responsibility of caring for the baby, enlisting the help of the authorities to trace the parents of the child. After being told that she was an abandoned baby the woman filled in all the necessary paperwork and legally adopted the baby. According to the village folk they thought that this was truly a wonderful gesture and thought that Baby Anna would now have a home with loving parents.

However, as time went by, it was obvious that the added burden of a baby to the household had done nothing to improve the bond between the childless woman and her abusive husband. Eventually Anna was placed in foster care and went from one struggling family to another until one day a young man asked her to marry him.

Anna and her husband went through life in much the same way as most of the folk in the little village. But there was something special about Anna: she was cheerful and always made the time and effort to help someone in need and it was obvious that Anna was dearly loved by all the villagers for her kind and gentle ways. When we spoke to the people from the village everyone agreed that Anna was an outstanding choice to be honored, not just as a mother to her own children, but also as a mother figure to the broader community.

That Sunday morning Mother’s Day celebration will be etched in my mind forever. The various guests enjoyed their fresh fruit salad, delicious muffins, buttery golden pancakes, eggs, bacon and toast. After a hearty breakfast members of the family arrived to join in the celebration. Cups of aromatic coffee were passed round and favourite songs were sung by the school choir. I glanced at Anna and saw a look of such peace and joy on her face. Afterwards our guests were invited to share their own thoughts about life and their experiences as a mothers.

Anna stood up, looked at everyone and explained how grateful she was, and that despite not knowing her biological mother, she was grateful for the gifts she had been given as a young child. She told of how she has no memory of love and affectionate touch, but that she had been taught how to read. Often she would find beautiful photographs and stories in the magazines at the compound that were left by sales people. One day there was a particularl photo of elegant women sitting around a table. As she read the article she learnt about a restaurant and how people would go there to have a meal. She cut the article out and stored it safely in an old tin in which she kept her treasures.

Then her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She opened an old coffe tin and took out the faded magazine clipping. Because nobody had ever been able to give her the exact date on which she had been born it was decided that her birthday would be on the second Sunday of May, as that is when she was found in the church. Tears filled her eyes but she was smiling. She thanked everyone for the nomination and the delicious food, the singing, the love of family and friends, and then went on to say that she had been given even more gifts. Today was her 50th birthday, she was being honored as a mother, and for the first time in her life she was in a restaurant. Then she raised the long treasured magazine clipping for all to see. Everyone gasped, there in bold type was the caption to the article and photo …. breakfast at Tiffanys. And there stood Anna, celebrating Mother’s Day in her own home town, at a restaurant named Tiffanys.

A child had dared to dream, learned to give love despite the odds , and was celebrating what she considered the happiest day of her life with family and friends. A memorable Mother’s Day indeed!

Anna lives in a small village in South Africa. That restaurant has since been closed and no longer exists. However the memory of that celebration will be remembered for many more years, and the story has been passed on to inspire millions across the world. The language spoken in Anna’s village is Afrikaans.

Geseende Moeders Dag aan Anna en al die moeders van die wereld! A blessed Mother’s Day to Anna and the mothers of the world!

By Veronica Hankey

As a Red Cross volunteer in South Africa I have the privilege of serving some of the older members of nearby communities by taking a food parcel or just popping in for a chat. Today I am visiting with a mother and grandmother who lives in a humble village nestled at the foot of the mountainside. It is Sunday afternoon and the whole family is gathered on the steps, enjoying a cup of tea together.

With Mother’s Day coming up soon, I ask the gran if they ever had some kind of celebration for this occasion. The whole family starts smiling and I sit back comfortably, knowing that I am about to be told another interesting story that will give me a very personal glimpse into the lives of these precious people I love so much.

Gran goes tells how her husband died and left her with four young children to raise. They all lived together in a one-room house built of sticks and sheets of metal. Luckily Gran found a job with a family who came from across the sea and who lived in a huge “palace” (double-story house) in the nearby town. Every day she would walk there and start the day by cooking breakfast and getting the children ready for school. The rest of the day was spent doing what was necessary to ensure that the home and garden was in pristine condition when the madam arrived home from work, and the family could sit down to a lovely home cooked meal.

After cleaning the kitchen she would walk back to her home and do the same for her own family.
Gran remembers the second Sunday of May month very well, as she was not normally required to work on a Sunday. She would be asked to arrive at sunrise and the kitchen would be a hive of activity as they put a leg of lamb and chickens in the oven. Then it was prepping the vegetables, making the pudding, custard and lots of roasted potatoes.

The table would be set with the best linen and silver and the special glasses brought out for the occasion. Guests would arrive and mothers would receive flowers and gifts from their children. Apparently the lady of the house felt that the Mother’s Day celebration was also a symbol of celebrating “mother earth” and the sustenance she provided for all the people. So there would be all sorts of lovely arrangements with lots of green fruits of the earth. In the spirit of the celebration they would also have lots of a mystery green drink . After serving the guests and cleaning up, Gran would be given some of the leftover feast and a bottle of green cool drink to take home to her family.

She said that it was the greatest treat, and the children would eagerly run towards her as soon as they spotted her in the distance. They would enquire if she had the mystery bottle of green drink and then relieve her of the parcel. During her absence the children had cleaned up and put out their own little mother’s day cards which they had made at school. Then they sang a special song together and the green bottle would be opened and the contents divided. Gran says that the look on the faces of the children are etched in her memory forever. How they enjoyed the green drink from across the water.

Today she and her family know it as cream soda, and although they can enjoy it more often, it is always on the table at the Mother’s Day celebration.

South African women of various cultures may not have had the vote or the trappings of wealth, fame and prestige. However they were the physical and spiritual glue that held the home together. They learned how to create a welcome retreat for their families from the harsh realities of a world out there, filled with bias or in some cases even hatred. Here their children found comfort, contentment, protection and sustenance despite the poverty.

To achieve this these women elevated the pursuit of domestic work to an extraordinary work of art. They approached the domestic arts such as cooking, cleaning, serving, decorating, gardening and sewing, not as servitude, but as a form of personal expresssion of their own potential and satisfaction in a task well done. For them it was a sacred endeavor of investing time, energy and emotion in home-making and caring even when it was not there own flesh and blood. They were wise enough to realize their role in helping to craft the great tapestry of love and life.

These are the brave women who used their own talent for genius to build and leave a lasting legacy in the minds of children that would be sent around the world. We salute you – Happy Mother’s Day!