I called my Mom to lament my failed radish crops this year. Due to the unexpected heat wave in early April, most of the cool-weather radishes bolted early and failed to develop the crunchy bulbous roots that all gardeners look forward to as an early Spring harvest.

But in her usual true fashion, Mom calmly shrugged with a graceful “That’s okay!” - her signature response to anything from a trivial disappointment to a life-altering crisis. “You can make Dưa Củ Cải Chua with the green leaves,” referring to the traditional Vietnamese fermented mustard greens, but instead of mustard greens (Dưa Cải), this version would use radish greens as an alternative (Dưa Củ Cải). 

It was a brilliant idea that illustrates the two enduring principles behind everything Mom does: 1) Do what you can with what you have, and 2) waste nothing.  And not only Mom, but all of my ancestors have latched on to these two anchoring lessons in order to sustain our bloodline this far, after so many years of war, colonialism, and upheavals that constantly uprooted their lives. 

They have mastered the art of taking the good with the tragedy, even when the only good is the fact that the tragedy is finally over, like when a band aid that has been slowly tearing off the fresh wound is finally lifted from the tender skin. They never were afforded the time to wallow in their grief for too long.

After all, when my great-grandmother, her daughter-in-law, and her two-year-old grandson were separated from the adult male members of the family on May 1st, 1975 on the refugee ship, the first words my great-grandmother stoically told her daughter-in-law were: “From now on, your focus is to raise and protect your son. You don’t worry about where your husband is.” 

Keep in mind: her daughter-in-law’s husband is her son. It probably took all of her strength to be that composed about possibly never seeing her son again, but like all of my ancestors who had no choice, she focused on what she could control at the time. It wasn’t the only time in her life when that laser-sharp sense of focus had to be summoned.

That was an extreme example, of course, but I’m grateful to have these stories and wise sage like my Mom to reshape my perspectives in any situation, and to remind me of the only two principles I need to know: 1) Do what you can with what you have, and 2) waste nothing.