Thursday, December 19, 2013

a real christmas story

Last night, instead of blogging, I made a bunch of stops to hammer out my Christmas shopping. I had a list of four places to go - an ambitious goal for a weeknight. J. did offer to help, and cut it down to three stops, and I had left place #2 telling him I'd be home within a half hour. I was breezing through my last stop, the craft store, and feeling optimistic about my ETA when a man approached me, looking concerned, and asked, "You read English?"

I said I did, and he beckoned for me to follow him. "Español? Poquitito?"

"Sí," I responded.

He led me into the educational toys and books aisle and asked me to read for him the titles and features of different books. "In English. Slow." He was determined to get the perfect book to help his young daughter learn how to read - in English. Something he couldn't do.

"Your Spanish is good," he said with a smile, so I started using more Spanish words in our conversation. He told me I didn't have to translate the book descriptions, just read them. Slowly.

Gradually, though, our conversation switched almost completely to Spanish. He started asking about beads, the ones you arrange in little designs and then iron together. "What's the age limit on this?" he asked. We started exchanging vocabulary words: bucket. Cubeta.

Then he asked me to write down the names and prices of the different bead kits, so his wife could come back later and choose one. He only had fifteen dollars with him. He didn't make it to the bank before it closed.

When he had made his decision, he smiled broadly and thanked me profusely. "You should come here more often," he laughed, and told me he has been looking for a fire truck toy for his little son. I remembered the wooden fire trucks in my grandparents' house, and the elaborate toys that used to appear under our Christmas tree with my brother's name on them. My heart broke, just a little.

"Feliz navidad," he said, more than once, smiling like crazy. "Jorge," and reached out to shake my hand. "Clara." "Mucho gusto." "Mucho gusto."

"Feliz navidad to you too, and your family," I said.

He couldn't stop smiling. "And to yours as well!" And he gave me a hug, and thanked me again, and said merry Christmas one more time, and we went our separate ways.

Happy holidays to you and yours. I hope the holiday spirit touches you in some way this season.

posted from Bloggeroid

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