Dear Readers,

Welcome to another story in our January series, 'Inspiring Mothers'. Today, we're sharing Jo's story. It's a story about her life's ups and downs, and how being a mother, learning new things, and staying strong have shaped her. Jo's experiences are really moving and show what it means to be a resilient mom. As you read about Jo, think about the inspiring moms in your life. Feel free to share their stories in the comments or by using our 'Share Your Story' link.

Happy Reading!

My Story

Jo Della Maestra

It wasn’t until I was asked by a dear friend to write something about myself, to recount who had ever been an inspiration in my life, and whether I had ever been inspirational to others during my life, that I had ever given it much thought. Upon reflection, I am sure that many of us might not ever believe we were role models or made a difference in other people’s lives. It was when sitting down to begin writing that I started to recount my earliest memories of who and what had greatly influenced me.

Taking me back to my first memories of independence and achievement was being thrown into the sea by a friendly old local man who lived in a tiny fishing village where I spent my earliest childhood on the tiny Island of Malta. Mr. Borg, a family friend and fishing partner of my father, was walking past where I used to swim as a five-year-old. I loved the sea but had to contend with an inflatable swimming ring because I did not know how to swim. My mum also could not swim, so she insisted I wear this ring, which hindered me from snorkeling with my head under the water. My feet could just about touch the sandy bottom around the small rock shore where my little ‘island’ was my playground. I waved to Mr. Borg, who waved back, and shouted to him that I wanted to learn to swim. He waved back, said something to my mother, and as he came towards me, picked me up, removed my rubber ring, and dropped me gently into the water. ‘Now push off on your tummy and kick your legs and paddle like a dog,’ he said. So I did, and found myself floating and moving. This was such fun. ‘Leave her alone, she is fine,’ he said as he turned to my mum, whose face showed the horror she was thinking – and so it was, I took courage, did not fear, and just swam. That man had made me calm and, as if by magic and with trust, I was swimming!

That little patch of sea where I swam was my magical place. Armed with my snorkel and mask and some small flippers, I was able to swim around my rock, my own personal island. I spent such a happy time observing fish and picking up rocks from the sandy bottom. It is where my love of biology must have been awakened as a world of colored fish and squid opened up to me through my mask, observing them swim in and out of the little holes in the volcanic rock. I would tickle the squid, and they would squirt ink – this was fun, I thought!

This idyllic life where I grew up as a military child, and where I knew my mother’s family, was one of the most influential and where my sense of family and the love of grandparents and true friendships were defined. It was also one of the saddest times too, as my father was assigned back to the UK. We had to leave the little island and my dear Maltese family to enter a strange country that was cold, rainy, and where I was placed in a boarding school at the age of seven, along with my sister.

We only went home once a term for the different long school holidays, but the shock of separation, not only from close family members but also from my parents, to be looked after by strict and unfeeling nuns, was utterly devastating. I think I cried for weeks at the first convent I was placed in and never saw much of my sister because she was in a different dormitory.

I remember so clearly my first evening arriving at school and being led to our dormitory. The hour of getting ready for bed was all new to me, and I had just said goodbye to my parents. We were instructed to wash and get undressed but told to run through a large footbath and take everything off. I noticed at the top of the stairs, an elderly priest was watching all of us young girls wash, which somehow nudged something in me about modesty, and I remember the most awful feeling coming over me, almost like my blood was curdling.

Being shy, I did not remove my underpants and ran through the footbath area as instructed, amongst other 7-year-olds who were naked, only to see the evil face of a priest staring at the young girls below. That must have set the tone for me as I never settled and tried to run away from this school and begged my parents to leave. As I got older and reflected on this incident, I was sure the nuns must have had compliance with this evil being. My parents never knew what I had experienced that first day as I was too young and afraid to say anything, but I feared and became questioning about my earliest knowledge of faith. This experience did not shake my Christianity but made me despise the helpless feeling of being powerless. The idea of young girls just blindly obeying and trusting adults in such a situation stayed with me forever.

As my father retired and then took up employment in another area of the UK, near Cambridge, my sister and I were sent to a different private Catholic convent for girls. I found that through the leadership of our headmistress, a nun, the notorious Sister Christopher, I began to enjoy learning. Saying her name, Sister Christopher, used to put fear in most of the girls, but I liked her and felt she was such an inspiration, which is forever with me. She was small in stature but scary. Her heart was full of love and a determination that women should succeed in the world and that as strong women, we could do and achieve anything. She led by example; in her 70s, she opened a school in Zimbabwe and a charity to allow African girls to be educated. Her numerous sayings and assembly talks during our teenage years were inspirational. One favorite was, ‘Do your best and work hard, and for goodness’ sake, girls, have a sense of humor and stop taking yourselves so seriously, you will get there.’ Her no-nonsense approach was key to the quality of the education we received. She cared, and she made a difference, and I will always be grateful for that.

I met my future husband when I was only 16 and still at the convent, on one weekend when a school friend came to stay, and my father took us to an open event at a local US Military base on the 4th of July. I met a very young-looking boy who, in fact, was 20 years old and asked me to ride the fairground bumper cars with him. Hesitating, I explained I had a friend with me, and he said that’s ok, I have a friend too. So that was the start, and as I gave my home phone number, my parents became aware of a person that had come into my life, but I was not aware he was a soldier! Slowly, as time passed and I came home on weekends, I was allowed to go shopping and spend time out with my now husband.

I often think it's amazing what you do when needs must! At the end of our first year married, we had a son and flew off to the USA with a three-month-old in tow. It was tough. We had no money, no furniture, and 250 dollars in the bank. We had a car, so we traveled down to our new base in Florida after meeting his family for the first time. It was very difficult to transition to a new and unaccustomed way of life, indeed a new culture and language. Yes, language —  it gave me some laughs when the translations were two different meanings!

This time in my life was hard as I learned quickly how to budget, cook, look after a tireless toddler as we began our independent life away from family in a new tour of duty. Hours and hours alone with a small child, a husband on night shifts, three-months separation while he was on a training course, and encountering a serious flu, I grew up very quickly. I began to see that I had come to a personal crossroads and realized that I had missed my young life and that I had a young baby relying on me for everything. I reflected many times when alone on what I had done, and what I had not been able to do, and it began to bother me, but the choices I made were my own immature ones.

As we moved many times, it was difficult to have any kind of career, following a husband and his career. My turning point came when my son started school, and I started my first job as a clerical officer in the civil service on our return to the UK at a US base.

I really loved the job as it was so multifaceted, and I was lucky to work with two cultures. I think that I gained so much confidence in this new position and my boss, a young civil engineer, was such a role model and support. He taught me to trust my judgment and left me to run the office. His life was short as he died in his thirties, playing squash. I was devastated but can truly say his influence in my first job and his short life made me think about doing the most with my life. None of us know what is around the corner.

The remaining years at the age of 36 led me to complete a BSc in Radiology and to become a Radiographer for many years, working in a large hospital but then moving in a different direction, being accepted at the University of Cambridge. My final career made me realize that all the moving, the challenges, and the people I had met in my life were all part of this amazing jigsaw puzzle of life, where all the pieces had to be in place to complete the final picture. Those who had helped me, those who had been difficult, living in so many different countries and encountering every type of lifestyle were so influential. I think my deep love of medicine and teaching made me want to move on in terms of my achievements to primarily include passing on knowledge.

Deciding to change direction and being accepted to Cambridge University to undertake a postgraduate Science course in Education to teach Physics and Biology was a very large step. This change in direction surprised not only me but also friends and family, but I felt this was my final calling.

I remember my first day at Cambridge University, Homerton College. I took my coffee break on my first day of lectures, under a very old oak tree in the extensive grounds of the college, and sat in the sunshine, pinching myself. Could this really be me in my forties being accepted into such a prestigious university in the very city where I attended school? I had, in a way, come full circle and realizing how much I loved the city as I grew up, was very heartwarming. Yes, it is true, I said to myself.

For anyone of any age where choices seem limited, where circumstances seem to put up barriers, and doors seem to shut in your face, remember that life’s experiences and those we meet, and with the help of others, can often unlock and open our own negative barriers. Family, co-workers, events, hardships, and setbacks are all part of the rich jigsaw of life.

With all the complications of life, our encounters and experiences, we become the people we are. Listen to your heart and have faith, whatever your belief, be a part of your world and this rich jigsaw. For even one piece of the puzzle to be missing, the completion of the picture is not satisfying nor complete.

Jo's tale is a beautiful reminder of the enduring strength and influence of mothers. Her journey from the shores of Malta to the halls of Cambridge University captures the essence of resilience and the power of personal growth. I hope this story has touched you as much as it did me. Now, I'd love to hear about the inspiring mothers in your life. Share your stories in the comments or through our 'Share Your Story' link. Let's honor these incredible women together.

Warm regards,

S.A. Sterling