The morning
does not start off well – I had trouble going to sleep, so have
to drag myself out of bed…
I can’t
decide what to wear…
I get things
together to take to school: water bottles (frozen and cold), a Coke Zero for
Phil, some leftover chicken for our lunch, computer and charger, clean towels
for the restrooms, a canister of sugar for the students’ kitchen, and I must be
forgetting something…
I’m running
out of time, so I grab my travel mug and fill it with coffee…
Time to head
out the door: Outside lights on, inside lights off, water pump off, door
locked, gate locked…
Driveway
gates – two sets – opened…
Driveway
gates – two sets – closed… No, wait, the one where the welds have broken at the
hinges won’t line up to close so that I can lock it. Phil comes to my rescue
after backing the truck out of the driveway…
Hurried.
Harried. Frustrated.
Then I see
her…
So thin. Legs
like toothpicks. A baby bundled on her back. A hoe in her hands.
Receiving
instructions for chopping up the grass and weeds in front of the house across
the street.
She doesn’t
look like she could possibly have the energy to do that kind of hard work. In
the hot sun. With a baby on her back.
And I feel
shame for complaining when I am so blessed.
Remorse for
thinking my life is hard.
Compassion
for someone who has so little.
I rummage
around in my bags for my purse.
“Bom dia, Mãe”, I say. (Good morning, Mother.)
She turns
around. I place a couple of bills in her hand.
“Buy some food, something to eat”. And I
gesture eating with my hand.
She looks at
me. Uncomprehending. A questioning look on her face.
Then she
understands. Claps her hands enthusiastically. And says thank you. Over and
over again.
As we drive
way, she smiles and waves. And we smile and wave back. And whisper a prayer.
