September 6, 2011
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Strangers in Good Company
In light of the "Fart" story, I will now post a sweet one.My mom Mildred has a special way with people,she never did describe someone by color,
flaw or situation, she doesn't even notice it most of the time.
She sees "people" and she taught us to see "people".
There are many stories about her and how she treat people,
this is one of my favorites.When we lived in the city our big kitchen window faced a well traveled sidewalk.
Our stove broke and we used an electric frying pan till we got a new stove.
We cooked on the table by the open window so the heat and steam went outside.
I was a little embarrassed that the anyone passing by could see and smell what we were cooking.
My mom said "So what, just be glad that we have food and can cook it"
One evening my mom was making fried potatoes and they smelled really good.
An older man walked past the window and looked at the frying pan inside on the table.
He stopped dead in his tracks and asked " Are they fried potatoes?
I love fried potatoes! I haven't had them in years!".
He had a Spanish accent and was wearing a Fedora.
My mom said "Well, come in and I'll fix that! Use the door down there",
she pointed to the front door.
He did, he came in and made his way to the kitchen and joined us.
We cleared a space for him and he sat down, my mom offered him some coffee.
Soon enough the fried potatoes were done and we all ate,
he savored every bite, it was a pleasure to watch.
I remember wondering if the taste took him back to some long ago memory.
We were strangers in good company for a brief time
but I am sure we all made a lasting memory.
Comments (41)
This is a maxim by which I have lived as an adult. Whoever was in my house at mealtime ate what we had prepared. It's not a way to get rich, but it is a way to thrive as a human being.
@RighteousBruin - Amen.
Beth, you kindled a lot of memories dear friend. My eyes are misty now. I loved reading this.
@ZSA_MD - Thank you Zakiah, that touches my heart.
What a great memory!
What a beautiful story.
What a lovely memory. My parents were like that, too, and I am grateful. A family's van broke down outside our house one winter, and they stayed with us until my dad and the man had fixed it. I remember showing them how to use our cobbled-together shower.
That is nice, unfortunately times have changed and I don't think we can invite strangers in.
A beautiful memory.
I still love it when my parents say some of my cooking brings them memories of when they were little and their grandmothers use to cook for them... 3 generations later and I got their gift and love to cook.
We don't get many strangers but with my mom's work there have been time where we invite a few. rarely but they enjoy what my mom or I cook every time. It's like cooking always takes people back
That's nice. Your mom is a very special person.
I, too, am misty eyed and I fear we no longer live in a world where that kind of sharing is possible. Fortunately there are other creative ways to show our fellow human beings we can share and care....
This is a lovely memory, Beth -- and how great that it was an everyday food that brought back good memories. Your mother is a special person.
She was a great example of hospitality! It is no wonder that you are such a good person - you learned early the important things!
Mildred is da bomb. I can't believe I just said "da bomb."
I remember some very similar things happening in our home. Our parents, it seemed, never met a stranger and all were welcomed in. Thank you for the memories, Beth!
This is a very touching and beautiful story.
This brought back memories of my grandmother. Her generation, and indeed, my parents generation lived through a time in Australia when you would always cook extra in case someone came by who was in need. Back when nanna was young, there were a lot of "Swaggies" (Itinerant workers who walked all over the country offering their services, in exchange for a few coins or some flour or other staples). Nanna always kept a 'swagmans'' pantry with small amounts of flour, tea and sugar bagged up ready to be exchanged for a 'bit of work, missus?'
That reminds me hearing my grandmother talking about soup lines during the Depression, and her mother standing at the door, handing bowls of soup to anyone who wanted it. In our day, that sure hasn't been as common. So neat of your mom to do that. She is such a peach.
Kathi
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Lovely story....brought tears to my eyes to think of this gentleman enjoying fried potatoes with you, all because you had to cook on the electric skillet on the table near the window where the aroma wafted out to him. You just never know what our own hardships will become blessings in the long run, to us or to others!
This is very lovely.
I miss my mom's cooking
Neat story!
Theft. Gullability. Provocation. How dare he ask for food. He can make his own fried potatoes.
What a sweet story! It has inspired me.
Those potatoes could have just been potatoes to that man, or they could have, like you said...taken him back to a beautiful memory. Your mom was very kind on that day. =)
Happy Tuesday to you.
You have a very special mom! I love this story!
What a wonderful example of kindness and generosity you mother is.
Such a beautiful story. It truly makes you look at life, and people differently. Thank you for this story. It was wonderful to read. =D
Your mom is someone that I could really sit down and have a good chat with. We have a saying around here. The first time you visit you are company, the second time you are family. That is always how we try to treat people in this house. No one goes away hungry, no matter how short the budget is that week. I like to think that each person may be The Lord and I would hate it if I didn't treat the next person in a friendly way.
My momma used to fry potatoes too, but she would have shot anyone who dared to stop and talk to her through her window.
If only more people could be like your mother. Selfless and kind. Wouldn't the world be an amazing place? Oh, if wishes were horses...
@MidwesternShenanigansIN - SOOOOOOO good to see you!
I love how close you are to your mom. It's so sweet.
That's a really neat story. Sounds like something my mom would have done. I love fried potatoes too. We had them often when I was growing up.
That's so Millie, I always wished I was as kind as she is, but alas it's not in my DNA. great story, Beth.
Lovely story. My grandparents did something similar during the famine of 1974.
Yo mama is a very special lady! I would love to try her fried potatoes some day. Wonder how they'd stack up to my world famous 'greasy garlicy fries'?
What a nice story! How long was it till you had a working stove again?
Hello it's really a wonderful story and will remain in memory has truly loved
Oh, Beth. That we might all have that heart, to offer generously of what we have.
The blessings we receive are always, always worth it.
When I was a kid, we heard a car crash at the intersection near our house just as we were sitting down to dinner. We went over and made sure all was well, and the lady came back to the house to wait for the tow truck. I remember pulling up a chair and giving her a plate of mac-n-cheese as if it were the most natural thing in the world.