When I was in Cambodia, we had a cook in the dorm named Ma. Sweet, sweet Ma. She was a cheerful Chinese woman in her early 50s, married to the bible teacher Chayya, had 2 beautiful daughters who did well in school and were very involved in the church. Today, she was found collapsed in the kitchen, died before they even reached the hospital. I remember the way she talked, big motions in her arms. She would hit me from behind with wooden spoons, squealing with laughter. The students would translate as she spoke to me in line, spooning me brown rice into the cold metal bowl, "Ma says you are a beautiful girl." She was always cheerful. Always uplifting. Please pray for her family. Wish them peace.
Today is one in which I wish the truth had something better to offer. Everything sort of came spilling out in a way outside of my intentions, to someone I do care about for so many reasons, reasons easy to say and to mean. Like that I appreciate that he's intentional about what he says and does, is supportive, and funny, and real, and consistent, whose opinion I value and respect, whom I trust and know will make wise decisions, who holds things and people together much more than he realizes. It made sense in my head. It's late and I can't think clearly, but these things matter to me a whole lot.
3 comments:
was Ma the mother of one of your students? i remember you telling me about one of your girls' moms working in the caf...did i meet her?
nope. she was just the cook in the dorm kitchen. her students were older than in my class. but i'm sure you've interacted with her some. The mom you are thinking of is Philine's mom, but not her, Ma was the head chef, Philine's mom just helped here and there, but Ma was in charge.
I got the email from Fay. Part of me wanted to fly there and grieve right along with them. I suppose I can't hop on a plane everytime someone dies, someone gets, married, someone graduates, but I want to more than I expected I ever would. Interesting how things work out.
Post a Comment