When Life Gives You Apples, Make Applesauce

Something I wrote for a American Mothers [AMI] e-mail my mother-in-law sends out. AMI is an organization that celebrates motherhood, and helps women become better mothers. To learn more about this organization visit: americanmothers.org or, if you live in Arizona, you can visit our local chapter's website at: azmothers.com.

Every fall, as a young girl, I watched my mom harvest small apples from our three apple trees. She would spend all day over a hot stove, cooking down and canning the apples into applesauce. We enjoyed that applesauce throughout the entire year.

As I grew into an adult and started my own young family, I wondered why my mother would slave for hours to work hard at something that can be easily purchased at the grocery store. I remember her telling me that the art of canning, to my generation, was dead. And I was fine with that.

Until now. I recently spent a morning with a friend, making applesauce from apples I picked off of my mother-in-law's trees. Our hours of labor, from picking the apples, to washing, cutting, cooking, canning, and cleaning, yielded less than a dozen cans of applesauce. When all was said and done, I looked at those cans of gleaming fruit and I felt a surge of pride. From tree to can, I had created that! Then I recognized how canning is very similar to motherhood.

The Harvest
When my children and I went to my mother-in-laws house to pick the apples, their little hands could barely grab the apples on the lowest branches of the trees. The apples on the bottom were smaller, and not as ripe as the big fruit that sat closer to the sun. As we picked the apples, I spent most of my time helping their little hands reach up high to grasp the fruit ready for harvest.

This world is full of wonderful fruit ready for our children to pick. But sometimes, it is easier for them to grab something that is not as "ripe" and ready to eat. For example, how often as moms do we turn on the television instead of having our children play outside, read a book, or color a picture?

As mothers, one of our most important responsibilities is to steer our children toward the best of all possibilities. We must teach and educate our children to know about all facets of life. This can be overwhelming since there is so much to teach! Luckily, we do not have to face this endeavor alone. We live in a wonderful period of time that helps facilitate parenting. We have museums, zoos, parks, schools, and educational Internet tools to help us as moms.

When my oldest son was young, he didn't talk. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't teach him how to speak. Finally, after his third birthday, I took him to be tested at the local special education preschool. My heart was full of anxiety at the thought of testing my son. What if he was labeled as "different"? What if his peers would look down at him? I remember one good friend whose words of encouragement helped me make the decision to go. See, her older son had also had a speech delay, and she had taken him in to be tested. "Go," she said, "it never hurts to know what you need to do to help him."

I took my son in, and he spent the next two years going to that special education preschool, where he learned how to speak just perfectly. If it weren't for the help of his special education teachers, speech therapists, and the encouraging words of a friend, I might not have been able to help my son reach his fullest abilities.

It's Hot and Intense Near the Stove
The hardest part about making the applesauce, for me, was cooking down the apples in boiling water. A hot kitchen compounded with the hot Arizona summer made this part of my task labor intensive, and energy draining. But the fruit needed to cook down so it wouldn't decay and eventually become worthless.

Motherhood has its moments that can be down-right boiling hot. As mothers, we must stand over the "hot stove" of trials that our children can bring into our lives. Sometimes it's a giant bullfrog smuggled into the house, or a difficult week of potty training, or a baby that has blossomed into a teenager that is suddenly "smarter" than we are. The trials of motherhood are overly abundant, but what is important is keeping our cool in these tough situations.

Recently a friend of mine confronted her small toddler, who was sneaking chips from the cupboard. She gently told him to put the chips away and clean his mess. His response? "Stop being a mad woman!"

Even when we do everything right, we are all, "mad women" as mothers. Under-appreciated, overworked, and heavily tasked, we face daily challenges as we try and raise our children. The best way, I think, to avoid wallowing in the hardships, is to laugh and enjoy life. Instead of being hurt by her son's words, my friend decided to laugh at being called "mad woman" and embrace the title.

We must persevere through the heat and the difficulties that will, inevitably, befall us as a parent. Luckily though, motherhood is not only standing over a hot, raging stove. There are moments of joy that makes the process oh, so worth it. And if we endure the heat, with a cheerful heart, we might just keep our children (and ourselves) from decaying into the negativism of the world.

Preservation
After hours of work, and labor, and canning, I was left with less than two dozen cans. But how proud I was of my work! There, in those bottles, was good, healthy food that my children could eat. And not only that, it was sealed to last for years.

The sweet fruit of motherhood is the opportunity we have to raise our children into wonderful, well preserved adults. We can help mold them into the best possible person. We do this through love, nurturing, and constant diligence. And then, when all is said and done, we can sit back and enjoy the fruits of our labor.

My sister was recently married over Mother's Day weekend. All seven of my siblings and I were gathered together to celebrate our mom that weekend. We used that opportunity to give my mom something that we knew she would love: we sang a lullaby to her that her father used to sing. Out of eight kids, only one can sing, and we struggled through the simple tune. Regardless of the performance, tears brimmed in my mother's eyes. After years of hard work and diligence, she was able to enjoy the work she had done. And in turn, we were able to appreciate the love she had shared with us.

The Art of Canning
The art of canning might be dead to my generation. But one thing I do know, is the art of motherhood will never die. There will always be mothers to help in the harvest, the hardships, and through the joys of life. Through hard work, we can preserve the most important role we have been given. And that, my friends, gives me more pride than any jar of applesauce.