I am my mother's third child, born when she was 30. When I was born, nurses took me from the room before she could see me. Her doctor gently explained that my left arm was missing below the elbow. Then he gave her some advice: “Don't treat her any differently than the other girls. Demand more.” And she did!

  Even before my father left us, my mother had to go back to work to support our family. There were five of us girls in our home, and we all had to help out. Once when I was about seven, I came out of the kitchen, complaining, "Mom, I can't peel potatoes. I only have one hand." Mom never looked up from sewing. “You get yourself into that kitchen and peel those potatoes,” she told me. “And don't ever use that as an excuse for anything again!” Of course I could peel potatoes―with my good hand, while holding them down with my other arm. After that, Mom would say, “If you try hard enough, you can do anything.”