She knew there weren’t a lot of choices.
A teacher’s job might be the worst—
those runny noses, whining voices.
She thought she might become a nurse,
give polio vaccines. But blood
spurting, and she’d be on the floor.
Secretarial work? A dud,
all that paperwork a bore.
A stewardess lived a high life,
but she was sure she’d grow too tall.
Soon enough she was a wife
and mother, with no career at all.

She taught her daughters study skills,
mysteries of boys and birds and bees.
She nursed their wounds and all their ills,
from chickenpox to feared disease.
She wrote the letters, paid the bills,
filed receipts and guarantees.
She passed out snacks and drink refills
when her small crew flew overseas.

She never wrote a resumé,
and her précis includes no pay.
But tabulate another way:
her family prizes her each day.


© by Barbara Lydecker Crane.
Used with the author’s permission.