This popped up on a FaceBook memory. I decided that I wanted to put it here as well.
I was out working in the yard early this morning (before the heat and the biting flies). It's something I enjoy - gets my body to wake up and lets my mind wander a bit. And for some reason I was thinking of a trip to Oaxaca, Mexico, 18 years ago. We stayed at a very small hotel. Breakfast was served to all of the guests, family style, at a long table, which gave us all a chance to meet, talk about why we wanted to be there, sights to see, and make that sort of real, if only temporary, connection. (Although I do remember shaking my head in wonder as Bob translated the menu, which was in English and Spanish, into German for a fellow guest. It wouldn't have amazed me so much if he actually spoke German or Spanish - but Bob could rise to any occasion)
Among the guests were an Asian-Canadian mother and daughter, both artists. At one point the mother mentioned that she was dealing with breast cancer. Later that day, Bob and I were at a museum, and of course had to check out the gift shop. Bob talked with the owner for awhile, and made a small purchase.
The next morning at breakfast we were talking to the artists. Bob started talking a little bit about "milagros." (I'm not going into a long explanation here - after all, it's not my culture - but basically they are small charms of gratitude and blessing and the design can represent the blessing desired). After a few minutes, he rather shyly (for a guy who looked like a 6'5" grizzly bear he was very cute when he was shy), pulled the little box out of his pocket and slid it across the table to the mother. "I have a Hispanic friend who has survived breast cancer. If it's not too forward of me, I'd like to offer this to you."
She held the tiny charm, a blessing from a stranger. Tears and hugs were shared.
He was such an amazing and gentle man. I will always miss him.
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