Da Count-Da Sous Chef

Yesterday I told you how I made Fry bake for everyone.  Well, the next day, as planned and at Calypso's request, I cooked the community meal for all the interns and staff (15 people).  The menu request was curried venison stew and roti, with sides of rice and peas & carrots.  I could have managed everything myself except the roti.  To get that much done requires two people just to keep the rhythm of rolling and frying.  My assistant was this fine young man.  He joined me early and asked how he could begin helping so as I was forming dough balls for the roti I asked him to cut up the venison.  He began immediately.  

Shortly thereafter someone came in and expressed shock that he was handling raw meat due to his veganism.  I felt kind of bad but he said he really didn't mind at all.  I decided I needed to add some sort of vegan dish to the meal so he wasn't eating just rice, roti, and peas & carrots.  It wouldn't be right for him to help me all afternoon and then not get a decent meal.  I thought I'd make curried potatoes and chickpeas so he went of in search of spuds and beans.  No luck on spuds anywhere on camp property and given that they are over 30 miles from a decent store it wasn't going to happen.  We scoured cupboards for other ingredients and I wound up improvising a curried bean and tomato dish with what was on hand.  It turned out decently.  

We had some really excellent conversation as we got the meal together.  I found him to be a very humble, intelligent, thinking young man with a great sense of humor and service.  All that was a delight but as we talked he shared some of the details of his life as a foster child and how he found family after he had given up at the age of 20 (Out of respect for his privacy it's not my place to share but really, it's a story that would make the hardest heart tear up first in sadness then in happiness at the new beginning.  I thanked him for his openness and trust.).  He shared about the joys of finally finding the family he never had and the struggles of learning how to be a part of it and his perspectives on his peers who seem in such a hurry to leave the security of family.  I was deeply impressed by him. 

When it was time to fry up the roti is when he became truly invaluable.  I rolled furiously and he fried quickly and happily through so much roti I thought we'd never be done.  We talked about the finer points of the various varieties of roti and he asked questions about technique.  Seems the kid also loves to cook and wants to be able to make it again himself.  We laughed when it was over because I was covered in flour and he said as sous chef he should have wound up dirtier than I did.  I've always enjoyed cooking WITH another person who enjoys cooking because it's just such a nice way to get to know each other.  It was a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon made all the more so by having such a remarkable helper.  I wish him only the best blessings that family has to offer.

Da Count & Friday 55-The Widows

FRIDAY 55

They are a sisterhood

bound not by blood

but by loss,

strength,

and regained joy.

They are a circle of matriarchs

which tightens to protect each member,

loosens to welcome

those newly initiated.

Today

they march slowly,

shoulder to shoulder.

They enter quietly,

sit in dignified repose,

and bid farewell

to one of their own.

DA COUNT

I have often been struck by the groups of widows I have known.  In my mother's family the men die young but the women seem to be blessed with longevity (yes, we know this makes us ripe for certain jokes).  the widows in my mother's family are zesty women.  They mourn their husbands but their own lives do not cease.  They soon find their feet back under them as they are surrounded by those who refuse to let them retreat into hermitted sadness for too long.

As a young teen I spent a lot of time with my widowed grandmother who had a circle of widowed friends who all enjoyed a great number of adventures with each other.  They thought nothing of hopping in the car with my grandmother at the wheel to drive hours away on the spur of the moment.  Many times they'd end up at my house for a break midway.  They were an animated delight.  When my grandmother died I remember them greeting my mother and me in the receiving line and how the strength of their bonds and endurance of life gave me a sense of hope when I needed it.  I remember seeing them lined up in one row smiling up at me and nodding me through enduring standing in that line.  They had all spent many times in such lines and yet they found their smiles again.

I adore the group of widows at my church.  The youngest is in her 80s. They are no shrinking violets.  They are no mournful shadows of their former selves.  They seize life.  One still cares for a severely handicapped adult son.  They create with gusto, whether it's food, or gardens, or clothing.  They volunteer.  They let their opinions be known.  They are a tight circle of caring...both for each other and for younger women.

This week one of them left this life.  Florence was 93.  She had been a widow since she was 41.  She still lived in her own home.  She was in good health and her mind was sharp to the end.  She had a wonderfully dry sense of humor and a gentle spirit.  I also witnessed her deftly set in his right place a supposed leader who had been shockingly rude and publicly disrespectful. She loved to join us "younger girls" for movie nights or parties. She was among the group who came together in February to dye our hair pink in support of a friend with cancer.  Saturday night she went to sleep in her own bed and never woke up.  Thursday we gathered to say goodbye to her and once again I was struck by the enduring dignity, gentleness, and strength of the tribe of widows as I watched them encircle Florence's grief-stricken daughter and as they said goodbye to their "sister."

The Tale of Two Teachers

Yeah, yeah yeah, I know it's summer and no one wants to think about school. The other day I ran into the wonderful woman who was the kindergarten teacher for each of my children. To say this lady was made to be a kindergarten teacher doesn't quite do justice to her. She truly regarded it as a calling and approached her job and each student with enthusiasm, energy, compassion, and concern for the children as unique individuals. She told me during our brief meeting that she has decided this coming school year will be her last before she retires. I admit I welled up a little as we reminisced over the time she spent with my kids and as I considered the loss it will be to a special little school not to have her there any more. I decided after we parted that I was going to print out this story and have it waiting for her in her school mailbox for the first day of her last year of school. Since I posted it four years ago I figure it's safe to rerun it as few of you will have ever read it before.


The Tale of Two Teachers.

Once upon a time there was a little girl, named Lime who was ready for kindergarten. She was very excited and when the big yellow bus picked her up she gabbled all the way to school. Who would the teacher be? Who would her classmates be? What was the bus passing? Who would she sit with? What would the room look like? Would she get lost?

When the bus arrived a lady with pointy glasses, a wildly colored dress and a very tall bee-hive hairdo came to the bus and said she was their teacher (Years later when the girl was grown she would know all the bee-hived women in pointy glasses depicted in Far Side cartoons were modeled on her kindergarten teacher). She led the children to their new classroom. "Here are your cubbies and here are your tables. Please put your things away and come sit down on the rug. The principal will be here in a minute to welcome you." The children did as they were asked and in came a short man in a baggy suit.

The man in the baggy suit said,"Good afternoon." Some children repeated his words, some looked out the window, some picked fluff off the rug, some picked their noses. He repeated himself more loudly. Some more children repeated his words, some giggled because he sounded like their whiny little brother and he was repeating himself insistently, just like the whiny little brother.

The man in the baggy suit started to say more words. He was using the grown up tone that says, "I am very important and you are small so you must listen very carefully," but his voice was still whiny and monotonous. And there was a whole shelf of interesting looking books, and stacks of colorful paper, and pretty fall leaves on the bulletin board, and that girl has pretty pigtails, and that boy has a lot of freckles, and how does the teacher get her hair to stay like that, and the man in the baggy suit kept talking and talking and talking and whining and whining and whining.

Little Lime noticed the girl on her left was talking to the other girl next to her. The boy on her right was still picking his nose and he was wiping it on the rug next to her. She leaned over and said, "That's yucky, you better not get boogers on me." The man in the baggy suit noticed that the children were paying more attention to everything but his whiny words and said, "One of the things we will learn in kindergarten is how to keep our mouths shut when it is time to learn because some of us have very big mouths." Now Little Lime came from a family where personal opinions were uncensored and offered freely and where astute observations were commended. So she waved her hand enthusiastically in the air (having listened to the man in the baggy suit explain that this was the expected manner for taking turns speaking) to share her great insight. The man in the baggy suit pointed to her and she proudly exclaimed, "We know who has the biggest mouth of all! You do!" Thus it came to pass that Little Lime had a note home to her poor mortified mother on the first day of kindergarten.

Lime grew and she grew and she grew. She married Mr. Lime and they had 3 lovely Limelets of their own. It came about that it was time for the first Limelette to go to kindergarten. Lime remembered her somewhat bumpy introduction to kindergarten. Knowing that Diana is even more inclined to freely offer her unvarnished opinion than Lime herself, Lime was a bit concerned about Diana's introduction to kindergarten. When the day arrived Lime walked Diana to school. All the other children lined up with their bright new clothes and shiny bags and happy faces. Diana marched up the steps to join them confidently. Out came a smiling woman with gentle eyes and a gentle voice and and gentle, happy greeting, "Welcome to kindergarten, boys and girls. We have so many wonderful things to learn together." As Diana marched in Lime had an odd sort of realization that Another Woman would now help mold and shape her precious Limelette. She didn't know if she liked that idea or not. Her concerns were soon put to rest as the gentle teacher embraced Diana's fierce little personality and found opportunities for her to use her boldness for good.

When Calypso turned 4 she knew her turn with the teacher with the gentle eyes, voice, and smile would come soon. She asked her mother every day for a year, "How many days until I turn 5 and can go to kindergarten?" Every time she saw the gentle teacher she asked, "How many more days until I can be in your class?" The gentle teacher always said, "Soon my dear, and I can't wait either." Eventually after many days and many repetitions of the question and answer, Calypso lined up with all the other children in front of the school and wiggled excitedly. The smiling teacher with the gentle eyes, and gentle voice came out to meet the class. She leaned down to Calypso and said, "Guess what?" Calypso looked up with shining eyes and asked, "What?" The gentle teacher smiled wide, her own eyes shining with joy and answered, "TODAY IS FINALLY HERE! And I am soooo glad to have you in my class!" As the class followed the gentle teacher in Lime smiled knowing Calypso was in caring hands. This would be proven over and over when the Lime family suffered 2 deaths in the first part of the school year. The gentle teacher never failed to offer hugs, tissues, and kind words on the days when Calypso had the hardest times.

Finally, the day came when Isaac was ready for kindergarten. Since Lime had helped so often in the gentle teacher's class and the teacher had always said Isaac should come along, Isaac knew the gentle teacher very well. He knew where to find the room in the school. He knew where to find everything in the room when he got there. The first day of kindergarten was a mere technicality to him. But the gentle teacher was also wise and wanted it to be a special day for all her students. Isaac lined up with all the other new kindergartners. The gentle teacher came out to meet the class and she exclaimed to Isaac, "Welcome to kindergarten, my dear! Today, you don't just get to visit my class. Today you get to stay and today you get your very own spot in my class!" The gentle teacher celebrated Isaac's achievements with him just as enthusiastically as she did with his sisters because even though she had guided so many children it was always new for each child. Isaac and the gentle teacher also enjoyed sharing their little secret of having been "long-time friends" before he ever came to school.

At the end of Isaac's kindergarten year Lime felt a bit sad knowing it was the end of an era with the gentle teacher. She told the gentle teacher how she had wondered about her on the first day Diana went to kindergarten. Then Lime said, "I am so glad each of my children got to start their school career with you. In all my imagination there does not exist a more wonderful kindergarten teacher than you." The gentle teacher shed a little tear and cried, "Thank you, I needed to hear that."

And now, may all the gentleness, love, and joy the gentle teacher has given over the years be returned to her many times over in her retirement.