Photo by Dorothea Lange (1936)
 for U.S. Farm Security Administration.


MAKIN’ DO 

Momma was a waitress;
and one thing that she knew
was prayin' hard t' God above
t' help her just "make do".

My coat was Uncle Henry’s
before Ma cut it down;
and the little kids had dresses
made from Momma’s wedding gown.

We had a lotta home-baked bread,
and lots a Momma’s stew.
We next-t'-never had a roast,
’cuz we wuz makin’ do.

Our cousins all had horses,
and we begged t’ have one too;
but we could barely feed our cow,
and we wuz makin’ do.

Momma said she "couldn't hardly
make the two ends meet";
 and “we didn’t need no pony
cuz we had a pair a feet”.

She didn't heed our moans at all.
She plumb ignored our groans;
and ”makin’ do” was drilled into
the marrow of our bones.

I’m grown and things have changed a lot
from what it was before.
They don’t turn off our phone or lights
or water any more.

I’m grateful now for many things,
and I give Mom her due;
 I’m grateful that she taught her kids
the art of makin' do.

                    Bette Wolf Duncan
                      © May 10, 2007