Tuna Fish

The summer following my freshman year at college had an impact on me that I shall never forget. My roommate was eldest of eight girls. Her father lived apart in the Bronx and her mother and sisters moved to her uncle's place in upstate New York. How wonderful, I thought, to live in a place in the mountains, fresh air and countryside!

Just after finals, we borrowed a car from my parents and drove her up there. Her mother welcomed us both warmly and served up lunch on a wobbly folding table surrounded by an assortment of indoor and outdoor chairs. Lunch consisted of watery lemonade and tuna fish sandwiches. I don't like tuna fish - the smell, the taste, any of it.

Discretely I asked my roommate to see if her mom would make me something else. Shamed, she quietly told me there WAS nothing else.... Her mother had given me her own share of the meal.

What I didn't know until then, she was only at college on a full scholarship. The student-work she did on the campus was to pay for her room and board. Her family had no real income at all.

The run-down house-sized structure I sat before wasn't their house - it was 5 apartments! Her family shared a one-bedroom apartment on the second floor. Their uncle managed the place from his basement apartment. The reason we were eating outdoors wasn't because of the nice weather. It was because their kitchen consisted of a sink, stove and small fridge to one side of the small main room - too small for all of us to eat together.

I spent the night there. Sharing the sleeper-sofa with my roommate and one of her sisters. One of the girls had given up her spot on the bed and slept in a sleeping bag on the floor for me.

Over the years, I would visit that place many times. One thing that drew me back was, despite not having "the latest and greatest," this family was close and full of love. They shared everything they had, which wasn't much. Their mother worked as housekeeper at a local resort to keep food on the table. But there was so much love there; the sisters watched out for each other and helped each other. I never felt as welcome anywhere else at that time in my life.

It was the first of many times I've learned there is much more to humanity than what income and position offers.

And it was the last time I've turned down a tuna fish sandwich.

- ESA

The Newcomer (True Story)

This story was told to me a few times and dates back to the late 1970's in a New England church, near one of the prestigious technical universities.

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There was young man who excelled in math, but didn't always have the best social skills, caring little in the ways of social etiquette and appearance. He recently started attendance at the University, and far from home, went to attend services at the local church that Sunday.

His first time in the area, he did not realize how conservative this church was. Everyone there held to the old, traditional ways. Not one person dared cross the threshold without being properly dressed and hair perfectly in place.

The young man entered in jeans and a flannel shirt loosely buttoned. His clothing was clean but rumpled, his hair somewhat askew and a few days growth of stubble shadowed his chin. Worse! He was late too.

When he entered the church, people turned and stared. When he tried to find a seat, not one person would budge for he was certainly not welcome to sit with them. Row-by-row, the young man made his way up to the front of the church. By now, the service itself was disrupted as everyone stared, pointed and whispered. Even the preacher had paused.

No one would let him sit down in the pews, so - being a practical man - he dropped cross-legged right down in the main aisle, facing the man at the pulpit. All in the church were shocked!

Then from the back of the church, a new sound penetrated the profound silence. Tap, tap, click, tap, tap, click... The oldest member of the congregation - the one known to be the strictest and most adherent to the old ways - was making his way up the aisle with his cane. His suit was impeccably pressed, his tie straight, not a hair out of place.

The rest of the congregation ribbed each other with nods of understanding. This was the one to sort this young man out. Half of the attendees expected to see the intruder bodily flung from their church by the back of his shirt and the seat of his pants. They would not put up with such behavior!

Tap, tap, click, tap, tap, click. The preacher watched respectfully as the old man made his way slowly up the aisle. But when the old man reached the front, he wordlessly, limbs trembling, sat down beside the young man right on the floor.

Then he nodded to the preacher to continue.

After recovering, the preacher turned to the congregation and solemnly told them. "Years from now, you will not remember a word that I say before you today. But you will always remember what you have seen here today."

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- ESA