There’s a visual we can’t get out of our heads. We grew up with a “grandmother” on every street. Most of these elderly people were once neighbors in Portugal who immigrated to the States living near each other. This meant that as kids, we had an aunt and grandmother at every corner.
As streets were safer in the eighties and early nineties where we grew up, we’d play outside for hours, with the ability to take our bikes within a mile or two from home. No matter where we ventured, there would be someone who knew us waiting to invite us in for lemonade and cookies. Our parents didn’t need to serve us lunch, as that was always taken care of – when we were hungry, someone nearby would feed us and feed us well.
One of our best friends didn’t live near us, but her great aunt did. When she came over to play, we’d ride our bikes and play kickball or hide-and-seek on the streets several blocks away from our home. One day our friend asked if we’d like to go see if her great aunt had a snack to satisfy our hunger. Back east you would hardly use someone’s front door, as that was left for solicitors. We’d travel to the backyard and find a door that led either downstairs to a finished basement, or upstairs to the main living area (usually a kitchen, first).
On this occasion we went to the basement where our friend’s great aunt was making lemonade from scratch. We didn’t need an invitation – she held a mindset to always expect a visitor every day – at least it seemed that way – and she prepared food as if those thoughts would come true. That seemed to work, because we popped in unexpectedly where she had goodies ready to serve.
We remember her face lit up as she turned around to see us. As a Catholic widow, she was dressed in all black – black loafers, black nylons, a long black skirt, a black blouse, and a black cardigan. Her hair was white and grey, brought up into a bun at the top of her head, with wispy tendrils framing her face. Her eyes were cloudy, probably from cataracts, and the skin around her face was aged and wrinkled. Her hands shook as she served us a plate of biscuits and brought over the pitcher of lemonade.
We don’t recall her sitting to have a conversation with us. Our friend and we talked about the games we played and the games we’d still play. The old woman never once interrupted us or demanded us to work or be anything other than what we were in that moment. We’d like to think she simply appreciated the visit and that was all she needed.
We never saw her again after that one and only visit. Strange how something so quick and random in one day of our youth has become a vivid memory. All we remember is that this woman was so kind and gentle. She was peaceful to be around, yet very old. As kids, her age did not scare us. Dressed in all black, one could’ve easily spread a tale that she was a witch conjuring up a poison in her lemonade cauldron. However, the air around her was calming and made us feel like we were her grandchildren. She didn’t ask who we were. She just loved that we were there.
This old woman probably had no idea how much of an impact she made on our memory. She probably never thought twice about how much she made us feel welcome. Perhaps that experience was more selfish for her than it was generous. Not in a negative way, but in a way that she felt at peace sharing her generosity and home even for a moment, to even strangers. That she could sleep better that night knowing she was surrounded by happy children.
Despite our other blogs about negative situations between children and seniors, this is a real moment that happened to us that validates why this site exists. This isn’t some grand story. It only served as merely 15 minutes in our entire lives! Yet it held some much power and left us with a beautiful fantasy of what being old can be like.
As kids, we didn’t realize how wonderful this snack break had been. Not until now, as adults, have we found appreciation in that moment. Which tells us that every day we have an opportunity to leave someone a beautiful memory. Even though they may not recall it until decades later, we still have the power to warm up someone’s heart for the rest of their lives. This old woman whom we met for a brief moment, had taught us one of the most important lessons in life: treat others, always, how you’d like to be treated, but do so with the acceptance that you may never know the impact your kindness made.