I can’t remember a time when my mom didn’t work. She has forever been on the move: a go-getter. When my brother Adel and I had a paper route as kids, my mom would get up before us at the crack of dawn to drop off the Washington Post at different corners.

Kotb recalls her mother as a model of relentless work ethic and initiative—someone who didn’t merely encourage industriousness but embodied it in daily life. The anecdote about the childhood paper route underscores a kind of quiet, practical devotion: her mother rises earlier than the children to help them succeed, turning a small family job into a lesson in responsibility and perseverance. The specificity (the Washington Post, “different corners,” “crack of dawn”) grounds the tribute in lived experience, suggesting that Kotb’s admiration is rooted less in abstract praise than in repeated, formative acts of support and example.