Forty-eight Cents

I was bundled up in several layers because of the cold, and yet I knew within thirty minutes I'd be stripping them off as I warmed up during my tennis lesson. The wind hit my face sharply, and as I shivered I silently thanked God again that it was only now getting cold - in early January. As I rounded the corner I squinted in the sunlight and wondered if I'd be able to play well without sunglasses or a hat. Oh well - that's what I got for staying in bed longer and not having enough time to think through things this morning. I approached the bus stop and noticed a woman hunched down on the bench - no doubt also trying to stay warm. I sat down a little ways from her and mulled over the day to come. A new set of classes would start tonight, and instead of just two ethnicities, I'd have students from five or six countries. I needed to prepare for my lessons, do some house cleaning, and call someone about giving me language lessons. I had a full day ahead, and yet I enjoyed the few quiet moments as I waited.

Mid-thought, the woman turned around and made a noise. I looked up and was pleasantly surprised. It was one of the neighbor women from my street. Her face is absolutely smitten with wrinkles, and her large, thick glasses reveal mischievously shining eyes. The white scarf and black hijab frame her beautiful old face in such a way that every time I encounter this grandma figure, I can't help but grin at her charm. We greeted one another and I gave her a couple of kisses on each cheek. I asked how she'd been and how her family was. She returned the question, and mentioned that she hadn't seen me for several days in the vegetable shop. She was one her way to the market to do some shopping. She needed garlic, among other things. I was on my way to the tennis courts. We sat and chatted for about five minutes until the bus showed up and then rode in silence together on the same torn, crusty bus seat. I started to get my bus fare out, and she quickly grabbed my arm and told me that I didn't need money. I looked surprised at her and thanked her, but assured her that I'd pay, and that I'd like to pay for her as well. She grinned like a cheshire cat and almost giggled as she said, "I already paid for both." It was as if she had won, and she knew it. All I could do was return the smile and humbly express my gratitude.

It was a kind gesture, and yet the forty-eight cents that my neighbor woman spared for me symbolized so much more than kindness. Her friendliness and generosity, and her protectiveness on the bus, demonstrated her care and her acceptance of me. In a place where I strive to follow cultural rules, dress and behave appropriately, and interact with my neighbors and friends in a respectful manner, I'm constantly second-guessing myself and wondering how my actions and words are being received. I want to stand out in a radical way because of my faith in Jesus Christ, but I want to be accepted and respected as well.

She got off the bus before I did on her quest for garlic, and as she hobbled away down the street, I smiled, with my heart full of gratitude and joy, at this unexpected yet special gift.