12/02/2025
"A LESSON IN GRATITUDE"
I don't know which one of us came up with the idea of pushing the elevator buttons and running in opposite directions as the doors opened, to see who was the fastest or who would get caught by whoever was in the elevator. After about 10 or 15 minutes of this activity, we found ourselves debating who was the fastest while standing in front of the elevator with our backs turned, not realizing that the doors had opened and we both had been caught.
"Why are you playing in the lobby?" I recognized her voice instantly, even though I had only heard it once before. I turned around to answer her. There she stood, even though she was about 5 feet tall, her presence felt like a giant to me. My mind flashed back to our old neighborhood, "K Town,” where all the streets' names (except for one), started with the letter "K." Kilpatrick, Kenton, Kenneth, Kolmar, Kilbourn, Kostner, Kirkland, Kolin, Kildare, Keeler (Tripp between Keeler and Kildare), Kedvale, Karlov, Keystone, and Komensky.
We lived in a two-flatted building on the West Side of Chicago, located at 1259 South Kolin. I was about 6 or 7 years old, and I remembered sitting on the steps, listening to our Landlady and few of her friends gossip as this lady strolled by. She was petite, dressed in a well-pressed A-line dress, wearing a summer sweater softly draped on her shoulders (because back then, it was inappropriate for women to show their bare arms in public), she had on a pair of white Sunday best gloves, carrying a small purse that was resting waist high against her body. I was in awe because she was dressed for church, and it wasn't even Sunday. As she passed us, she said, "Good Afternoon, Ladies," without turning her head in our direction. A couple of the women responded with Good Afternoon.
She had barely passed by us when one of the women got up and started mimicking her way of talking and walking, speaking loudly enough for her to hear. Who does she think she is? Wearing gloves just to go to the grocery store? They all started laughing. I know she heard them, but she didn't flinch or even look back; she never broke her stride. I watched her until she was no longer in my eyesight.
As fate would have it, our paths will cross again 2 or 3 years later, in the 4th-floor lobby of the Henry Horner Projects. Even though her wardrobe had changed, I was still captivated by her spirit. She asked us again why we were playing in the lobby. I shared with her that we were locked out of the house. She responded with "Get your books and come with me." I was surprised to find out that she lived directly over us. As we entered her dimly lit apartment, her two children were sitting at the table doing their homework. She instructed my brother and me to do the same.
Whenever she wasn't looking our way, I would sneak peeps at their dwelling, making mental notes of comparisons between their home and mine. All the lights in their apartment were turned off except for those in the kitchen and the lamp by the table where we were doing our homework. I thought to myself about how, in our home, every light in every room would be on even if no one was in it, the TV would be blasting, and the radio would be on, too. Wait a minute, they don't have a TV! What No TV?
After about an hour, she told us to clear the table so that we could eat dinner. She fixed our plates. Making sure that the four of us had equal amounts of food on our plates. It was then that I noticed that she was not eating anything. I couldn't explain what I was feeling. I wanted to cry when I realized that she wasn't eating because she gave her food to my brother and me. Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat, not because of the food but because of this feeling I was experiencing, a feeling that made me want to put my head on the table and just cry.
After we finished eating, she brought us glasses of Kool-Aid. The look on her children's faces made me realize that this was a special treat for them. She told us to hurry up and drink it. I noticed something floating in the glasses. The longer the liquid sat in the glasses, the more substance floated to the top of the drink. It was then that I realized we weren't drinking Kool-Aid but Cherry JELL-O. I hate JELL-O! But I drank it not only because I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but because I appreciated what she was doing for my brother and me. After she made sure that we finished our drinks, she returned from the kitchen with dessert. She set before us bowls of warm peaches with pieces of white bread (her version of a peach cobbler). After we finished our dessert, I asked her if my brother and I could be excused, because I knew that by this time, my older brother or sister was at home. She excused us, and we both thanked her.
My brother and I were silent all the way home. We never discussed what we had experienced with each other or anyone else, for that matter. I guess, we both realized that she had given us her very best, from her heart. The thought that someone chose to go hungry so that she could feed my brother and me still overwhelms me, especially when I realize how blessed we were as children. Our family wasn't wealthy, but we were better off than most people.
I think about that experience often. And every time that I do, I cry
tears of Gratitude and Appreciation. Even now, I can feel that original lump returning to my throat, making me as humble as I can be as the tears fall from my eyes onto the keyboard.
I never knew her name or saw her again after our second encounter. Still, through her actions, this Amazing Woman taught me the beauty of not letting other people's opinion of you break your stride, regardless of your life circumstances, always choose to walk in the spirit of integrity and dignity. Her act of kindness gave me "A Lesson Of Gratitude" that will forever be a part of who I am.
I AM Blessed!!!
