Madea
The second unexpected gift of friendship God arranged just this afternoon. But first, a disclaimer to my parents or family members who read this blog: I NEVER pick people up on the side of the road! (Well, except this old Vietnamese guy in my neighborhood sometimes on Sabbath mornings. He's always headed to the bus stop like three or four miles away, and it's a long walk, so I like to help him out when I see him. But otherwise...I don't.)
I met Madea on my way back from one of those trips to the store that I didn't want to make. I ran out of toilet paper, so like it or not, it required a trip to the store in Friday afternoon traffic. I was slowing down for a stop light when I saw her--a tall and thin, well-dressed black woman with a large bag and rolling a suitcase, walking down the side of the road. Somehow the sight of her rolling the suitcase bypassed my normal inhibitions, and I immediately rolled down the window and asked if she would like a ride somewhere. In her thick accent, she explained that she was walking to the Metro station because she'd missed the bus (and apparently didn't want to wait for the next one?). She seemed a little hesitant at first, but I guess I looked normal enough to her too and the Metro was a really long walk from there, so she thanked me and climbed in.
Madea (pronounced "MY-dia") immigrated here from Liberia last year, joining her two sisters who came before her, and leaving her father and mother and several siblings back home for her pursuit of better opportunities and a more peaceful life in America. As she is getting on her feet, she goes back and forth between her sisters, helping each of them with their children and housework as they work and provide for their families. She said it is difficult to make the trips in the winter. She had never experienced a winter so cold like this last one in Maryland, since it is warm year-round in Liberia. I also discovered that they speak English in Liberia--but they have their own special accent, which she is trying to work on. She is also a Christian, and attends a Methodist church in town.
As I dropped Madea off at the Metro station, she asked me to write down my phone number in a little book. She wasn't a stranger to me any more--she was a friend. So I was happy to give her my number. A few hours later, she texted and let me know that she made it to her sister's, and thanked me again for the ride.
I'm glad I momentarily forgot about the world being a crazy and dangerous place so I could meet a new friend who sometimes lives in my town.
I met Madea on my way back from one of those trips to the store that I didn't want to make. I ran out of toilet paper, so like it or not, it required a trip to the store in Friday afternoon traffic. I was slowing down for a stop light when I saw her--a tall and thin, well-dressed black woman with a large bag and rolling a suitcase, walking down the side of the road. Somehow the sight of her rolling the suitcase bypassed my normal inhibitions, and I immediately rolled down the window and asked if she would like a ride somewhere. In her thick accent, she explained that she was walking to the Metro station because she'd missed the bus (and apparently didn't want to wait for the next one?). She seemed a little hesitant at first, but I guess I looked normal enough to her too and the Metro was a really long walk from there, so she thanked me and climbed in.
Madea (pronounced "MY-dia") immigrated here from Liberia last year, joining her two sisters who came before her, and leaving her father and mother and several siblings back home for her pursuit of better opportunities and a more peaceful life in America. As she is getting on her feet, she goes back and forth between her sisters, helping each of them with their children and housework as they work and provide for their families. She said it is difficult to make the trips in the winter. She had never experienced a winter so cold like this last one in Maryland, since it is warm year-round in Liberia. I also discovered that they speak English in Liberia--but they have their own special accent, which she is trying to work on. She is also a Christian, and attends a Methodist church in town.
As I dropped Madea off at the Metro station, she asked me to write down my phone number in a little book. She wasn't a stranger to me any more--she was a friend. So I was happy to give her my number. A few hours later, she texted and let me know that she made it to her sister's, and thanked me again for the ride.
I'm glad I momentarily forgot about the world being a crazy and dangerous place so I could meet a new friend who sometimes lives in my town.
This is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThanks for always sharing. Thanks for being an inspiration to me.
ReplyDelete