It was the summer of 1987 when my mother, driving her worn-out rust-colored Renault Encore, faced a dilemma. This car, which constantly broke down, embarrassed me to the point where I would insist on being dropped off a block away from school. Our tight budget meant we couldn’t afford repairs, and one night, while grappling with the car’s persistent issues, she stumbled upon an infomercial for a series of DIY auto mechanic books. She decided to take matters into her own hands.
Over that summer, my mother became quite the auto mechanic. She learned to change tires and oil, fixed the emergency brake, and tackled jumping the battery over and over again. By the time fall approached, she had saved that car from the junkyard more times than I could count, making us wonder what could possibly stop it.
As the new school year loomed, my mother received a life-changing call from the university. She was selected for an interview that could secure her a stable job, alleviating our financial worries. However, there was the question: would the Encore make it to the interview?
The day prior to her big moment, she practiced typing on our electric typewriter and rehearsed how to take dictation. A friendly neighbor even lent her a smart navy dress and beige pumps to ensure she looked professional. On the morning of the interview, she rushed us through breakfast and dropped me off at school a good 45 minutes early, anxious about the car’s reliability.
At school, while I shared laughs with friends over sunburns and Madonna songs, I couldn’t shake off my concern for my mom. Later that evening, she returned home and recounted her day. She arrived at the interview early and made a great impression. The questions were standard—her experience, future aspirations, and weaknesses—all of which she had practiced diligently.
However, when she returned to the parking lot, the Encore let out a dreadful noise and puffed smoke as the muffler fell off. Without hesitation, she removed her borrowed shoes, grabbed a floor mat, and knelt in the parking lot to fix the issue. The HR manager, witnessing this, approached my mother, offering help. My mom replied, “Thank you for your kindness, but I can handle this. It just takes a bit of determination.” She was hired on the spot.
That car finally gave out a few months later, but I had learned a valuable lesson. I was never again ashamed of my ride to school.
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In summary, my mother’s determination to fix her car taught me the value of self-reliance and perseverance. Facing challenges head-on, whether in life or while pursuing parenthood, can lead to unexpected successes.