My mother was the strength. She was the anchor. She was a

Ellen Johnson Sirleaf’s words, “My mother was the strength. She was the anchor. She was a preacher and a teacher,” echo like a hymn of gratitude to the eternal role of mothers. They remind us that behind every leader, every pioneer, every soul who rises to great heights, there often stands a mother whose unseen labor forged the foundation. In these few words, Sirleaf lifts her mother from the shadows of obscurity and crowns her as the pillar upon which her own life was built.

The origin of this truth lies in Sirleaf’s own journey. As the first woman elected head of state in Africa, the President of Liberia, and a Nobel Peace Prize laureate, she faced storms of conflict, war, and political upheaval. Yet she never forgot the steady hand that raised her, the voice that taught her, the example that guided her. Her mother was more than just a parent—she was the anchor, the one who steadied the family when winds of uncertainty blew, the one whose strength shaped Sirleaf into the resilient woman who would one day be called “Africa’s Iron Lady.”

Throughout history, countless leaders have testified to the same truth. Consider George Washington, who said of his own mother that he owed everything he was to her. Though widowed and often left to manage alone, she instilled in him the values of discipline, sacrifice, and perseverance. Her unseen influence became the bedrock upon which a nation’s first leader stood. Like Sirleaf’s mother, Washington’s mother was both teacher and anchor, molding character through patient strength.

The mention of her mother as preacher is also profound. It does not merely mean she stood at a pulpit, but that she lived by example, proclaiming truth and values through word and deed. A preacher guides souls to higher callings, and in the family home, her sermons were not only spoken, but embodied in the way she endured trials, extended compassion, and lifted the spirit of her household. She was also the teacher, instructing not only in knowledge but in wisdom, handing down the lessons that could sustain a daughter through the storms of life.

Her words remind us that strength is not always loud or public. It is often quiet, steady, and unseen, carried in the daily sacrifices of mothers and caretakers who do not seek acclaim. Yet their strength is the unseen architecture of history. Nations rise and fall upon the foundations of such women, who give of themselves tirelessly, anchoring generations with their unyielding presence.

For us who hear this teaching, the lesson is clear: never underestimate the power of those who anchor your life. Recognize the teachers and preachers in your own story—the parents, mentors, elders—who guided you with love and conviction. Honor them not only in words but in deeds, by carrying forward the values they instilled, by standing firm as they once stood for you.

The practical action is this: strive to be an anchor for others. Whether you are a parent, a mentor, a friend, or simply a fellow traveler, your presence can steady another’s storm. Preach not only with your voice, but with your actions. Teach not only with your lessons, but with your life. In this way, you continue the legacy of those who anchored you, and you ensure that future generations will also find their strength.

Thus, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf’s words endure as both tribute and teaching: behind every great figure stands another who anchored them in love and wisdom. Her mother was strength, her mother was anchor, her mother was preacher and teacher—and so may we all strive to be for those who come after us.