“As a mother, my job is to take care of what’s possible and trust God with the impossible.”

–Ruth Bell Graham

I’m sure Lillie could have made it through the coronavirus crisis just fine. She learned survival strategies from her father who raised his nine children during the Great Depression. She would not have worried a minute about a shortage of such things as toilet tissue or paper towels, because she had lived through World War II when the purchase of basic items required ration stamps. She had unusual ideas about money and could manage on very little.

Each time Lillie, my mom, received a paycheck, the first 10 percent was put aside to take to church on Sunday. She explained to her children that we must never buy anything that we didn’t have the means to pay for and that if we used her charge accounts, we would be expected to pay those bills on time. Mom went on to explain that we did not need a car because we could walk or ride the bus. And that we would not often have meat because vegetables and cornbread were just as good.

Often, when I told my mom about a pretty dress in the Marks Rothenberg window downtown, she would go and look at it, purchase fabric, and sew a dress that looked very much like the one in the store window.

Mom had strict Sunday rules: We must not go to picture shows, play cards, or go fishing on the Sabbath. She also explained to her daughter that nice girls would never wear short shorts, read trashy novels, or call boys on the phone. Furthermore, nice girls did not smoke or drink, and they would never go to Skyview, Club Chalfon, or any other honky-tonk — no matter what everybody else was doing!

Like Ruth Bell Graham, my mom believed in taking control of what she could control; she would do what was possible and trust God with the impossible. Often, she would say, “When something is hard to do, remember the story of the little train. Say, ‘I think I can, I think I can! And just keep moving toward the goal.’ “

Mom had been taught great respect for the work ethic, an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay. Therefore, she valued her job at the factory, where she could work and pray. Her most effective prayers took place each morning at Burnley Shirt Factory, as she sat at her buttonhole machine in the noisy den of machines revving up for the day’s work. While bosses took last draws of hand-rolled cigarettes and shouted orders, Mom sent up a silent plea, “Dear God, please take care of my children today, please keep them safe.” As those invisible prayers cut through the smoky noise and headed straight up to heaven, God’s response was to build a wall of protection around two little kids as they walked to school alongside a busy highway. Those prayers also painted a protective covering over our doorpost when my brother and I came home from school and waited for Mom. Some of our neighbors were out-of-work people who staggered close to our door, but we were never kidnapped nor molested because our mother had us covered with prayer.

I thought Mom was very old-fashioned. I grumbled and complained and often rebelled against her rules, but now I see that she was a pretty wise lady and I know for sure that her prayers are the reason her children survived.

Virginia Dawkins is the author of two books, most recently, “Please, God, Help!” She also authored “Stepping Stones: Steps from Shackles to Freedom.” Both are available at Amazon.