My Mother: Salutatory Speech

My mother graduated high school second in her class, earning the honor of delivering the salutatory address.  She was just sixteen years old.

As I explored the papers she left behind, I came across the beginning of that speech, written carefully in her own cursive, each word formed with intention, preserved across time on a page she once held.  Reading it now, I am not just seeing her handwriting, I am hearing her voice as a young woman, standing at the threshold of her life.

With joyful hearts, we, the class of 1936, extend our greetings to Your Excellency, our Reverend Bishop, to the Right Reverend Monsignor, our kind benefactor; to the Reverend Fathers; and to our dear parents and friends.

One’s aim through school life should be directed toward the highest achievements. These achievements may be reached by continual fulfillment of one’s duty. He who adapts duty as a necessary part of his routine is the successful one in life. Happiness comes not from recreation alone but from a combination of work and a small amount of recreation. Let us fulfill all our obligations honestly and well.

There is something striking about these words, not just their formality, or the era they reflect, but their clarity.   At sixteen, she already understood something that many spend a lifetime trying to learn:  that purpose is found in responsibility, that fulfillment comes from doing what must be done with honesty and care.

What moves me most is how familiar that feels.

These are not just the words of a young student trying to rise to the occasion of her graduation speech.  These are the values of the woman I knew as my mother.  The belief in duty.  The balance of work and play.  The quiet expectation that life is something to be met with integrity not avoided.

Her words then reflect the life she lived.  I am reminded that who she became was already present in who she was when she wrote this speech.