Makin' Do/Poem/Bette Wolf Duncan

Makin' Do

Momma was Depression poor;
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.
Back then, in depression times,
most everyone was poor.

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.

 © 2007, Bette Wolf Duncan
 This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

Bette comments: "There’s a surplus of cowboy poems about the ponies their writers had as children. But in the ranching communities in the real West, life wasn’t always that rosy. For every kid that had a pony, there were many who would have given their eye-teeth to have one, but didn’t. Here’s one for all the Western kids who didn’t..."