Do All Mothers have Super Powers? 
by Jane Lang  
My mother had super powers; the one I   
respected most was when her back  
was turned and I reached into a Whitman  
candy box, silently picked up, turned   
over a square medium dark chocolate,   
pushed ever so lightly into its center on   
the bottom not top, to see if it contained   
caramel, my favorite. She would say and   
sound just like Cruella de Vil,  
“You picked it up, you eat it.”  
I wondered how she did that?  
My mother was a mediator, a negotiator of the  
highest rank, could diffuse conflict on the spot.   
It’s difficult with a sibling six years older than   
yourself, I yearned for his approval. Like the   
time I cleaned his room as a surprise, emptied   
a waste basket into the burning fireplace:   
firecrackers, how was I to know? Explosions!   
Fire department! She quietly calmed my anxiety,   
offered viable solutions to my furious brother.   
Serene as Mother Teressa.  
I wondered how she did that?  
My mother has been dead for over twenty  
years; her heart still speaks to me and  
advises, directs, quietly loves and listens as  
my own guidance has become outmoded.   
I look for approval, satisfaction from my   
hatchlings, both now golden eagles who   
soar, orchestrate their own tunes. My   
mother produced all this with those super   
powers; answered every question in a    
simple, calm, non-combative way.  
I wonder how she did that?  

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