Grandma says: “No such word as can’t.”
I do not recall owning many books as a child, but I do know that I learned some of the standard children’s stories, many of which were intended to teach a life lesson. One such story was The Little Engine Which Could. In this story larger engines are asked to pull a train over a high mountain. They refused and finally the request is sent to a little engine which manages to do the job while repeating it’s motto: “I think I can. I think I can.”
Wikipedia tells us that “An early published version of the story, “Story of the Engine That Thought It Could” appeared in the New York Tribune on April 8, 1906, as part of a sermon by the Reverend Charles s. Wing. The best known incarnation of the story The little Engine That Could was written by “Watty Piper” a pen name or Arnold Munk, who was owner of the publishing firm Platt and Munk. Arnold Munk was born in Hungary, and, as a child, moved with his family to the United States, settling in Chicago.”
In my memory, this story was used as an example when Grandma Fannie wanted to remind me and, I suspect my siblings, that there was no such word as can’t. Whether it was getting up by sunrise to do outside chores after staying up until midnight to do intellectual and spiritual chores, supporting herself as a seamstress when she and my grandfather got divorced (later to get remarried), dealing with the early death of her only and beloved child, my father, homesteading in Oklahoma Territory, becoming a teacher or hosting family gatherings for what seemed like a hundred people, her life was a testament to the lesson of the little engine which could. I do not recall that she was ever too tired or even too sick to deal with any of the life issues which show up for all of us. She did reluctantly accept that she could live with grey hair or ask for assistance when arthritis make certain personal tasks unmanageable, but nothing stopped her from learning a new word a day, reading, writing letters or being present to listen.
At least to me, it seems as if she believed no matter what the challenge or how insurmountable the situation or task appeared, if one “set one’s mind to it” one could accomplish the task at hand. As a child and even a young man I may have felt that the task at hand was too much for me to accomplish, but I knew that I would never, ever think of incurring the disappointment of Grandma Fannie. It was not that I was fearful of corporal punishment. I cannot recall Grandma Fannie even threatening to use corporal punishment. She quite simply had faith that I (and others) would give 200% to the task at hand.
My parents also modeled the same lessons. They often had a physically and emotionally demanding life and, yet, they learned how to do what they had to do. My mother got married without knowing how to cook, chop wood, can, sew clothes or do much of what she needed to do to survive married to a man who took her from Chicago to what were then remote areas of Oklahoma. She did not have the luxury of can’t. My father never encountered a design, mechanical, engineering problem or task which prompted a “can’t” from him. He apparently learned well from his mother and his father.
My son recently remarked that, as a child, he was not always grateful for the life lessons or values with which I gifted him. but now is at a stage of life when he is able to be grateful. Similarly there were times when I was sure that it was Grandma Fannie’s intention to force me to do the impossible, but I soon learned as an adult that she fervently believed that we all possessed that internal engine which could drag that train up and over the mountain. There were things which one could not do because of simple logistical limitations but those were few.
So, even today, when faced with a tough challenge I internally hear Grandma Fannies voice, “I think I can. I think I can.”
Written February 6, 2017
I do not recall owning many books as a child, but I do know that I learned some of the standard children’s stories, many of which were intended to teach a life lesson. One such story was The Little Engine Which Could. In this story larger engines are asked to pull a train over a high mountain. They refused and finally the request is sent to a little engine which manages to do the job while repeating it’s motto: “I think I can. I think I can.”
Wikipedia tells us that “An early published version of the story, “Story of the Engine That Thought It Could” appeared in the New York Tribune on April 8, 1906, as part of a sermon by the Reverend Charles s. Wing. The best known incarnation of the story The little Engine That Could was written by “Watty Piper” a pen name or Arnold Munk, who was owner of the publishing firm Platt and Munk. Arnold Munk was born in Hungary, and, as a child, moved with his family to the United States, settling in Chicago.”
In my memory, this story was used as an example when Grandma Fannie wanted to remind me and, I suspect my siblings, that there was no such word as can’t. Whether it was getting up by sunrise to do outside chores after staying up until midnight to do intellectual and spiritual chores, supporting herself as a seamstress when she and my grandfather got divorced (later to get remarried), dealing with the early death of her only and beloved child, my father, homesteading in Oklahoma Territory, becoming a teacher or hosting family gatherings for what seemed like a hundred people, her life was a testament to the lesson of the little engine which could. I do not recall that she was ever too tired or even too sick to deal with any of the life issues which show up for all of us. She did reluctantly accept that she could live with grey hair or ask for assistance when arthritis make certain personal tasks unmanageable, but nothing stopped her from learning a new word a day, reading, writing letters or being present to listen.
At least to me, it seems as if she believed no matter what the challenge or how insurmountable the situation or task appeared, if one “set one’s mind to it” one could accomplish the task at hand. As a child and even a young man I may have felt that the task at hand was too much for me to accomplish, but I knew that I would never, ever think of incurring the disappointment of Grandma Fannie. It was not that I was fearful of corporal punishment. I cannot recall Grandma Fannie even threatening to use corporal punishment. She quite simply had faith that I (and others) would give 200% to the task at hand.
My parents also modeled the same lessons. They often had a physically and emotionally demanding life and, yet, they learned how to do what they had to do. My mother got married without knowing how to cook, chop wood, can, sew clothes or do much of what she needed to do to survive married to a man who took her from Chicago to what were then remote areas of Oklahoma. She did not have the luxury of can’t. My father never encountered a design, mechanical, engineering problem or task which prompted a “can’t” from him. He apparently learned well from his mother and his father.
My son recently remarked that, as a child, he was not always grateful for the life lessons or values with which I gifted him. but now is at a stage of life when he is able to be grateful. Similarly there were times when I was sure that it was Grandma Fannie’s intention to force me to do the impossible, but I soon learned as an adult that she fervently believed that we all possessed that internal engine which could drag that train up and over the mountain. There were things which one could not do because of simple logistical limitations but those were few.
So, even today, when faced with a tough challenge I internally hear Grandma Fannies voice, “I think I can. I think I can.”
Written February 6, 2017
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