Lunchlady

People come and go in seasons of life, and some are preserved special spots in memory banks.

Today I think about a woman who worked in the cafeteria my first year of college at the University of Arizona.

I was lonely and homesick, drowning in a sea of independence and anonymity. I remember being cold. Perhaps this is is how my mind remembers my emotional state, or more likely, it was because of the dry, cold, air-conditioning that was perpetually on due to the dry, hot desert-conditioning of the air outside.

She sat on her stool at a cashier’s register, ringing students up for their trays of food. I remember her uniform, brown hair. Glasses. Ruddy skin, a weathered smile. Rough around the edges in appearance and behavior. I can’t remember her name. She always had a cheerful greeting, a kind word for me. I started choosing her line every time it was an option.

I’d like to think I became a favorite of hers. She started sneaking me treats from the pastry basket at her register, giving me discounts on my food. As an employee, it would have been considered stealing. But, she was doing what she could with what she had to show kindness to me.

Another woman comes to mind from that first year of college. She and her family owned a small Chinese restaurant right off-campus. I walked in one day to discover that in addition to the buffet of sticky-sweet Americanized Chinese food, there were dumplings on the menu. Starved for a taste of something familiar and comforting, I bought some, discovered them to taste homemade and wolfed them down.

I began to go regularly, and the woman also started greeting me with a cheerful greeting, a kind word. She started offering me dishes from a special menu of homestyle specials – things like stewed pork and rice with a tea-braised egg. I had a cold one day, and she made a special tea for me with ginseng and honey, refusing to take money for it.

Yet another woman, the mom of a friend who lived locally, welcomed me into her fold as well. Each time I went to visit their home, she had a cheerful greeting, a kind word, and piles of food. Spam and rice with banana ketchup. Hot dogs and Filipino spaghetti. Sometimes lumpia, palabok, pancit, and other delicious Filipino home-cooking.

Cheerful greetings, kind words, simple gifts of food. Materially basic yet humanly rich. I’m so thankful for the treasure of those things in a difficult year.