By Perched on top of my Trinity dorm room shelf, sits a snow globe of Portland, Oregon.
The globe was a gift from my mom, a gift that holds memories.
With each gentle shake, miniature snowflakes swirl around casting reflections that shimmer the image of home. It’s a piece of my mom’s heart, bringing comfort even when I’m hundreds of miles away.
My mom is always kind to me, and her gift keeps her close.
“Seek to understand things,” said mom. “That is where kindness truthfully comes from.”
Mom drove me to endless practices and was my unwavering cheerleader.
My mom encouraged me to confront discomfort and treat every individual with curiosity and respect.
She recalls a moment when I, as a child, asked about an amputee who passed by. She emphasized the importance of facing uncomfortable questions with an open mind.
“I told you that if you wanted to know what happened to them, you should ask them yourself,” she said. “I was trying to let you know from a young age that you don’t need to shy away from things that make you uncomfortable.”
As my passion for gymnastics grew, my mom was always with me – taking me to every practice and standing by my side through every competition.
For 12 years, she was not just my chauffeur but my unwavering advocate, instilling in me the belief that the essence of gymnastics was not about winning, but in the joy of the sport itself.
One memory stands out.
At a state competition in fourth grade, I won first place while my teammate won second. I saw my teammate’s devastation. With a nod from my mom, I approached her and handed her my first-place trophy.
“That is exactly the person I raised you to be,” she said. “I’m so proud of you.”
As I matured, the values instilled by my mother blossomed within me, particularly her emphasis on compassion and generosity towards those less fortunate. I remember her purchasing a Happy Meal for a hungry stranger and giving a couple of dollars to someone when we were in a rush.
Once, when we were in a hurry, she stopped to give a homeless man some money.
“You should always carry some one-dollar bills on you at all times,” she said. “You never know when you may pass a homeless person in need. Always offer them anything you can. You never know what they are going through.”
When I was beginning middle school, my older sibling struggled through tough, scary times. But my mother loved them through it all.
Mom immersed herself in therapy sessions, determined to educate herself with tools to better understand and support my sibling. Through it all, her love remained steadfast as she navigated the complexities of mental health with compassion and positivity.
“One thing we all need to understand is that when a person is the hardest to love, that is when they need your love the most,” she said.
I’m away from home now. I’ve left the nest.
But Mom’s with me.
She sends heartfelt care packages, brimming with odd trinkets and inside jokes. And, of course, there’s Instagram, containing quirky posts and warm memories.
Mom’s never far away.
Whether I’m studying at my desk, or falling asleep, my snow globe is always nearby.
Ryan Lincoln
