When I was a little girl in Puerto Rico, my mom said: ”Norma nació el día del trabajo.” A literal translation of that statement is: ”Norma was born on the day of work.” Nobody ever told me what that meant, so I concluded that my sister Norma was not lazy and would grow up to be a hard worker because she was born on the day of work.

I was born on Pearl Harbor Day, and again I reached my own conclusion: Pearl Harbor must have been a very special lady because she had her own day. I was born on her day, so I must be special too.

I was really confused when my mother mentioned that my younger brother was born on Mother’s Day. I could not understand how my brother would grow up to be a mother; he wasn’t even a girl!

When I was ten years old we moved to New York City, and almost immediately I learned what I thought was the real importance of the three holidays:

“The day of work” was really known as “Labor Day,” It was such an important holiday that we didn’t even go to school.

I liked to argue, and I thought that was because I was like Pearl Harbor, who was a warrior.

My brother was a special gift for my mom on Mother’s Day, and therefore he would always be her favorite child.

Many years passed before I learned that Labor Day was a national holiday honoring American workers for their social and economic contributions to the country’s growth and that Mother’s Day celebrated all mothers, not just mine who happened to have my brother on that day. I was disappointed to find out that the December 7 holiday commemorated the 1941 Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor that brought America into World War II.

It was finally clear to me that Labor Day has nothing to do with Norma’s character, that Pearl Harbor is a place and not a person, and that my brother won’t ever become a mother.