Grandmas On Our Street

Some days are more difficult than others. Yesterday was one of those.

I felt stuck, lost, and frustrated that I don't seem to contribute in any visible way. Then I remembered our neighborhood grandmas.


You see, we use one particular street to get in and out of our neighborhood. The house of one of the grandmas is on the way. Five ancient chairs are lined up next to its open gate, facing the street. When we first moved here, we noticed how grandmas would appear on those chairs around mid morning before the weather got too hot, and around mid afternoon, just after nap time. We'd spot them from a distance and say "ah, it's a three-grandma day," or "we have a full complement of grandmas today." For the first few weeks, when we walked past, the grandmas would become very quiet. Even though we greeted them, they would not respond. But as soon as we passed, they would speculate about us rather loudly in Taiwanese, referring to Mark as "that pointy nose young man." This went on for about a month. Finally, one bold grandma decided to greet us back. Soon, the others joined in, too. We enjoyed seeing the grandmas show up on these chairs every day as they chatted, exchanged gossip, or just sat quietly and kept each other company.

Then one day, the grandma who lived there disappeared. We didn't see her for a long time, and when she finally appeared again, there was no life in her eyes. She'd had a stroke, a bad one. She could not move or talk. She sat there inside the gate, just staring. Still, her friends gathered around her each day. The "club" continued on. We greeted her every chance we got, hoping for some sign of improvement. Her recovery process was long, but she was never alone; the other grandmas stuck with her through all of it. Recently, she has reclaimed her club seat by the door, and now she even smiles and talks to us, which she was too shy to do before the stroke.

A few grandmas sitting around chitchatting every day may not seem like much. One might not consider it a "service" or "life purpose." But my heart believes that it was the grandmas' support that gave their friend a reason to live. They may never know how their "club activity" has touched my heart. They also have no idea how much joy I get from exchanging greetings with them when we pass by. They are simply being themselves, living their lives, completely unaware of the ripple effect they have on other people.

Oh, and these days, they refer to Mark as "our pointy nose young man."