Holidays are sometimes hard for me.
I feel melancholy, not
social. Holidays make me think a
lot. I have a strong desire to make them
special, yet I have an innate understanding that the specialness will not
occur. Dichotomy.
Hence, melancholy.
But today… Today is Thanksgiving, and we made a new
friend. A friend who represents the
spirit of the holiday. The magic of the
season.
His name is Javier.
I looked out the window
and saw a vehicle pulled into the last spot of the street with trunk open. This usually indicates INCOMING. Normally, incoming donation for the Little
Yellow Food Pantry. Sometimes, incoming
warm coats for Project Warmth.
Sometimes, incoming gifts of delicious cookies.
But today, I was not sure… Instead of bringing the bags that he pulled out
of the car to the porch for donation, he was going straight to the pantry. I reassessed – maybe this was someone who
needed food, not someone giving food.
I went out to say hello and
was greeted with the biggest smile.
“This is your box??” he
asked, pointing to the Little Yellow Free Pantry.
“Yes! Do you need food?” I asked. The smile returned. “NO! No. I do not need food. I GIVE FOOD.”
And that was the start of
an hour-long conversation, and the beginning of a new friendship.
Javier is an immigrant. He came to the USA from Honduras, alone, 18
months ago. And for the first 6 of those
months, his food came from a Little Free Pantry, one that was located outside
the Central Library in Arlington, Virginia.
As Javier told us his story,
he expressed his gratitude over and over.
Gratitude for the country. For the
food. For the people.
When he first arrived and got
a job, he kept $1 of his earnings. “One
dollar,” he said, “One dollar. In
America. What food can be gotten with
one dollar?”. The rest of the money he sent
home to his wife and children, his mother, and used to pay part of the rent for
a tiny space he was sharing with another immigrant.
But, like so many who make
their way to this country, he was resourceful.
And strong. And determined.
He got a bicycle. He got more work. He got his driver’s license. He saved and got a car. And he got more jobs.
He went to university back
home. He had a very good job in his
country. But now here, here in the land
of the free, he wakes up at 3:30 am to begin his days. He studies English on an app. He reads a book. He eats his meal. Then he begins one of four jobs.
They are jobs that some
would say are “beneath him”, but he works hard.
He saves. He sends money home,
even to support a cancer charity because his mother has breast cancer.
And he is thriving
here.
Javier spent every dime
he had made today to buy food for others, strangers. He didn’t know where he would donate
it – the pantry he used to frequent has been moved to a new location and he
didn’t know where it was. He searched
online and found us – the Little Yellow Free Pantry. So, without ever meeting us, without having
benefited from our services, he came to give back. Give back to the country and the people who
are giving him a new life.
We talked for quite a
while outside but it was cold, so David invited him in. We sat at our messy kitchen table and learned
more about his life. His 3 sons. His wife.
We got to meet his wife when he video chatted her to introduce us. I couldn’t help but notice “mi amor” was
written across the screen as her ID in his phone.
We met his mother. He video chatted her and interpreted for us. I told him to please explain to her how
grateful we were for his donations, and that she raised a very kind man.
Someone had donated
pumpkin pies, and we had one left in the fridge. I offered it to him even before I heard his
story and he had accepted with a smile. As
we talked, he said that last year was his first Thanksgiving in his new
country. He had eaten pumpkin pie and
remembered it fondly. But this year, he
had told his wife earlier today, no pumpkin pie. And then magically – PUMPKIN PIE. Ahhh, this explained the shine in his
eyes when he took the dessert from my hands.
If you ever doubt that
immigrants are what make this country amazing, please let me introduce you to
Javier. Listen to his story. Hear how hard he works. Feel the hope in his heart that he will be
able to bring his beautiful wife and children to America.
That is thankful.
This is what deserves
Thanksgiving.
Oh, Susan (and David), what a wonderful interaction. This story made me cry, and brought out some feelings of sadness I’ve been holding in.
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