Cynicism and Hope

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(Light posting continues. Lots of changes going on around here.)

Jeremy had that look on his face this morning. His shoulders were slumped, his face was frozen, and when he turned to me his face crumpled into pain.

A month ago we’d started – really he’d started – to strip the paint from our fireplace mantle and later the brick. Eighty years of paint – we counted 20 layers – was proving a stubborn adversary. And it was taking its toll on my husband.

I walked into the living room and looked over the mess – the top of the mantle, which he’d dismantled earlier in the week, was half resting on the rubble on top of the brick, half lying in the hallway. The bricks were at various states of having been attacked – I saw green, white, blue, pink, some raw brick. The closer I got to the fireplace, the stronger the fumes of the environmentally friendly paint stripper got.

And that’s when the words from last night came echoing back to me. I’d even been the one to quote my mom last night – after Suk Maya, a friend from Bhutan, insisted we read Matthew 6.

My mother used to look me in the eye and say with a stern voice and her finger wagging, “God gave everyone a gift to share with others. Are you going to pretend you don’t have a need – pretend you don’t have a hole that needs to be filled – and ROB that person of their opportunity to give to you? How dare you prevent them from giving by refusing to receive!”

And so I called Suman and Nathaniel.

There were several reasons not to. They are newly arrived refugees from Bhutan. Suman already has 2 jobs – some days he works 16 hour shifts. He supports his wife, his mother and his 3 sisters. They all live in the same 2 bedroom apartment a couple of blocks away. Nathaniel has relatives arriving tonight from Nepal (his mom is Suk Maya from last night’s storytelling group).

But the look on my husband’s face – he’s an extrovert who gets energy from being with people, and doing this huge project alone was killing him – made me call anyway.

Nathaniel wasn’t sure what stripping paint from brick meant but I asked him to come over to take a look. He came. Suman showed up just a few minutes later. They put on the jumpsuits Jeremy gave them and soon paint chips were flying everywhere.

A couple of hours later Suman had to go to work, so the three men stopped for the day. Jeremy offered money but Suman said,

“You shouldn’t even offer. Aren’t we friends?”

Yes, of course! Jeremy replied.  We’ve shared meals and so much tea, brought them gifts, visited and told stories in the evenings in a sweaty one-bedroom apartment crammed with the whole extended family.

“Don’t you help me?” Suman said.

We did help him move about a month ago. We’d gotten the truck and driven it because he doesn’t have his driver’s license yet. Jeremy just paused.

“Then alright,” Suman concluded, and they all said good-bye.

I rarely give money to panhandlers. I don’t really have a good reason why. I smile and nod and look the person in the eye while I decline, but I don’t open my purse.

After many mornings of smiling and nodding and saying hello to a man who speaks to me whenever I pass by on the way to the train, I started to think I that I should at least be able to greet the man by name. A couple of weeks ago he got on the train when I did. I felt like I should say, “Hello. I see you nearly every day, and I don’t know your name. My name is Meg.” But I didn’t.

Today I did. So now Ronald and I are speaking on more than an ask-and-decline basis. He needed to get on the train, so I put enough for one trip on a transit card and handed it to him. And he told me a little about his circumstances.

He coughed and said that he’s trying to quit smoking. “That’s hard to do,” I said. “The president’s had a hard time quitting too.” I was taking gum from my purse for myself, so I offered him a piece. “Might help you put off that next cigarette,” I said.

Next time I see Ronald, I probably still won’t give him money. But now instead of just “No,” I can say, “Good morning, Ronald,” and maybe, “Would you like a piece of gum?”