Wise words from mum always help

It's been 26-and-a-half years since my mother walked this earth.
Every day I hear her words in my mind, "If you never ask, you never get".
Wise words those.
They stand as a testament to my mother's philosophy on life, and I'm still learning to truly enact them.
I remember as a small girl arriving home from school each day, my dark brown leather satchel almost dragging on the ground (it was a big satchel), and Mum asking what I'd learned.
The enquiry would almost inevitably result in me revealing that there was something I hadn't quite understood, a teacher's instruction, a complex problem to solve that had a seemingly elusive answer.
Mum would chime in, "so, did you ask?" I of course would usually bow my head, smile, and wait for the ever familiar phrase, "Well, you do realise that if you never ask you never get."
The sensible response was, "Yes, Mum", and an endeavour to do that the next day was the top of the list, with the promise of knowing that I'd have to follow up, or risk being interrogated again after school when tomorrow came.
Despite all the encouragement, as my secondary school years rolled around I reckon I became less good at asking. Puberty and peers have a lot to answer for. Well, at least that's the excuse I'm sticking with for now.
Not that it did me any good. Mostly I got by with brains and a helpful Dad.
It didn't help me with the truly sticky stuff in the classroom though. I usually sat quietly at the front of the class, and spent much of my time trying to look and be studious.
It really is a silly thing to sit in silence and struggle.
I wised up a bit more when I began study at polytech as an almost 20-something, and by the time I hit Victoria University at what I thought was the very mature age of 25, I cast all caution to the wind and became quite good at asking.
Now I work in a job that encourages women to assert themselves, where asking questions is everything.
The irony is that every woman we work with has already demonstrated that by plucking up the courage to walk in the door to ask for help. And, even more ironically, as the manager of a charity, one of the most important parts of my job at the Women's Network is asking the community for help.
Help that enables us to keep on helping others. This is one way that enables me to live out the legacy that my mother created, and I must admit that her voice in my mind comes in really handy as a reminder when I need it most.
Charities must always be in the business of simultaneously asking for help whilst giving it.
The success the Women's Network has in the ways we work with women is what makes this work so rewarding, and it is unique in our community.
We help women new to town to form connections; we inspire women to value their bodies and to make healthier relationship choices; we clothe women and their families when they can no longer afford to; we let women know that "no is a complete sentence" and that their personal boundaries are worthy of respect; and we spend endless time listening to women's life experiences and aspirations, and assist them to chart new roadmaps to navigate their way differently.
This, and so much more.
Women are the beating hearts of any community, and their strength is an indicator of the health of our people. Our work is funded purely through charitable trusts and the generous donations we receive. Your small change goes a long way toward making positive change for local women, right here, right now. And your small change makes a big difference to our work. It is change that we need. Thanks to my mother for her endless spirit of encouragement, and thanks to all the women out there who give me so many opportunities to remember that the art of asking is such an important part of giving. Email me about making a donation: womnet.wang@callplus.net.nz