I am just so thankful that my mom was a fantastic mom. She

When Patricia McBride reflects, “I am just so thankful that my mom was a fantastic mom. She wasn’t a stage mother; she didn’t push me. She was happy if I was happy. We are so different. I was very shy; my mom did all the talking. She was my strength. She never expected that I would be this ballerina,” her words resound with the eternal gratitude of a daughter who recognizes that her achievements are rooted in the quiet, unyielding strength of her mother. Behind the brilliance of the ballerina stands the unseen grace of the woman who nurtured her, who demanded not perfection but happiness, who guided without control and loved without condition.

At the heart of her words is the distinction between pressure and support. Many children of ambition are burdened by parents who push too hard, who project their own dreams onto tender shoulders. McBride honors her mother precisely because she did not bear the title of “stage mother.” Instead, she gave her child space to bloom at her own rhythm, content not with accolades but with joy. This reveals a truth as old as time: the greatest gift a parent can give is not the weight of expectation, but the freedom to become.

Her remembrance of her own shyness, contrasted with her mother’s boldness, shows how love bridges differences. Where McBride was quiet, her mother spoke; where she was uncertain, her mother stood firm. This is the essence of parental love — to lend strength where the child is weak, to shield until the child can stand, to speak until the child can sing. It calls to mind the story of Alexander the Great and his mother, Olympias, who, though fierce and ambitious, gave him the confidence to believe he was destined for greatness. Yet unlike Olympias, McBride’s mother sought no throne for her daughter; her only desire was her child’s happiness.

Her gratitude carries also the profound humility of one who acknowledges that her artistry was never a foregone conclusion. “She never expected that I would be this ballerina,” McBride says. Here lies the beauty: greatness arose not from relentless pressure, but from tender acceptance. Her mother’s lack of expectation freed her to surpass even her own shyness and find her place upon the stage. It is a lesson that sometimes, the absence of expectation creates the soil in which the most extraordinary destinies bloom.

History provides us another reflection in the figure of Abraham Lincoln’s mother, Nancy Hanks Lincoln, who passed away when he was young but whose kindness and quiet influence shaped his character. Lincoln would later say, “All that I am, or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” Just as McBride attributes her strength and success to her mother’s support, so too did Lincoln see his mother as the root of his greatness. Both stories remind us that the foundation of extraordinary lives is often laid by ordinary yet extraordinary women who expect little but give much.

For those who hear McBride’s words, the teaching is luminous: honor the strength of those who nurtured you, even if they stood quietly in the background of your triumphs. Recognize that the gentle hand that never forced you, the voice that spoke when you could not, and the presence that believed in your happiness over your success, are among life’s greatest blessings. To be thankful is to carry that legacy forward — to parent with love rather than pressure, to support others without demanding they fulfill our dreams, and to serve as strength for those who are still learning to find their voice.

Therefore, let this wisdom be passed down as an eternal teaching: behind every artist, leader, and dreamer stands someone who was content to love them as they were, not as they might be. Be thankful for those who strengthened you, and if life grants you the chance, be that source of strength for another. For as Patricia McBride reminds us, greatness is not always born of force — often it is born of love, patience, and the quiet power of a mother’s heart.