Journal Entry for 5/5/26 for the May 2026 ActiveRain Challenge.
Where There’s a Will, There Is a Way— A Reflective Essay about my mother, plus a Moral to my story.
I am thankful my mother never sat down and taught me how to be perfect. It’s because of her, I am who I am today. Her words and instructions taught me to believe in myself and never give up on my dreams. As I reflect, whenever I was determined to learn, she told me, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” It wasn’t until I became a wife and mother that the reality of believing in myself became my reality. Yes. It’s true. Determination often reveals itself not in the cost of buying something as big as a piano, but in the quiet, persistent choices we make, without being a financial burden to others. For me, this truth took shape in childhood, long before I understood its full meaning. It began with a simple desire—to play the piano—and a mother who believed that if I wanted something badly enough, I had to find the right way to pursue it.
From the moment I first heard a piano play, I felt drawn to its sound. Music stirred something in me, something I couldn’t name but deeply wanted to express. There was only one problem: we didn’t own a piano. Still, the desire didn’t go away. So, I signed up for Miss Wanda’s piano class, an extracurricular program after school, that promised to teach the basics. I began learning scales, notes, and counting to the beat. But practicing at home quickly became a challenge. Without an instrument, I could only memorize notes on sheet music.
One afternoon, I explained to my mother how important it was for me to practice, on a real piano. She listened, thought for a moment, and then came up with a solution that would shape my understanding of perseverance for years to come. She brought home a large sheet of cardboard from a local store and told me to draw my own keyboard. It wasn’t elegant, and it certainly wasn’t musical, but it was a start. And so, I practiced—day after day, year after year—on a silent piano keyboard drawn with crayons.
From fourth grade until my eighth‑grade graduation, that cardboard keyboard became my instrument. I memorized notes, finger positions, and counted. I imagined the sound I could not hear. Each week, when I arrived at Miss Wanda’s class, the real piano gave me confidence, and an ear for music. She never asked whether I had an instrument at home, and I never volunteered the truth. I simply played what I had practiced, trusting that my silent rehearsals were enough.
As eighth‑grade graduation approached, our class prepared for a music recital. I chose a piece titled The Deep Blue Sea. For reasons I no longer recall, I never had the chance to play it for Miss Wanda before the performance. So, on the day of the concert, I walked onto the stage, sat at the Grand Piano, and played the piece as I had memorized it—having never once heard it aloud.
When I finished, my classmates rose to their feet to applause. Miss Wanda approached me afterward with a puzzled expression and asked, “What was that you played?” “The Deep Blue Sea,” I answered. “That wasn’t The Deep Blue Sea,” she replied gently. “Did you practice?” I shrugged my shoulders and explained that I had memorized the notes but had never heard the music until that very moment. Without a piano at home, I had simply done the best I could.
The surprise on her face caused tears in her eyes. My classmates never knew that I had performed a piece I had only imagined until the day of the recital. What I really accomplished was confidence, because I was determined to play the piano. I learned that limitations do not define who we are. Our determination does. Because the truth is, where there’s a will, there’s a way.
My Mother Shaped Me into Becoming Who I Am
My mother’s story. She was three years old when the Great Depression began in 1929 and that depressing era to survive through sacrifices ended in 1939. She got as far as eighth grade, then had to work in the factory to help the war efforts. In 1939, WW11 began and ended in 1945. Three years later, she married my father. If she had ambitious dreams, I’ll never know. But the greatest gift she gave to me, and the gifts I bestowed to my children are to believe in yourself. Persistence pays off. Develop confidence, and if you aspire to have a dream come true, always remember, where there’s a will, there is a way.
The greatest gift my mother gave to me—When you truly want something, resourcefulness and perseverance can turn obstacles into opportunities. The path may not be perfect, but the will to try creates its own kind of success. I am grateful my mother taught me, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” This has been the story of my life.
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