More on Freddy...

As I write this, I’m listening to a sound I don’t remember hearing for more than fifty years…the sound of a manually operated rotary push mower. It’s ours. Boy, does that sound bring back memories. My grandfather had one until the lure of a gas operated mower proved to be too strong. I can still see in my mind’s eye, the gentle giant I called, “Grampa”, mowing their yard, carefully avoiding Grandma’s flowers. It seemed to take him all morning to mow his small back yard but everything then seemed to move more slowly and leisurely. In many respects, I’m reliving that time frame. Somehow the slow pace seems sweeter in nostalgic reflection than it does in current reality.

One of my favorite people here is Freddy, our gardener. He’s the one who has brought these memories to mind. But instead of smelling the sweet smell of freshly cut grass, the pungent fragrance of cilantro is “perfuming” the entire house. Some memories are a little more work to embrace than others. Our new place has a much larger grassy area than did our old one. We knew Freddy would have to cut it by hand with a machete unless we bought a lawn mower. We also knew he wouldn’t complain one bit if that was what he had to do. It’s certainly how he would be expected to cut it.

We’ve discussed getting a mower since we moved here but just couldn’t bring ourselves to make the investment. As are most conveniences here, they are quite costly. We finally opted for this man-powered machine for several reasons. We knew Freddy would be using it and we were a bit concerned about his safety with a gas mower. Fingers and toes are finite and it only takes one accident to leave with fewer digits than when one arrived. We knew it would obviously be less costly to operate than a gas mower and we liked the idea of it being more environmentally friendly. And probably, one of the main factors is it was about $170 cheaper than the cheapest gas mower! Now we’re down to the nitty gritty of the matter. There’s no doubt those factors cost us the ease of a gas mower, but it’s still better than being bent over all day, using a machete to cut the grass.

That fact was reinforced to us by the grin of delight that appeared on Freddy’s face when Jim showed him the mower on Wednesday and how to use it. He was thrilled! And then, with all the sobriety and sincerity of a deeply dedicated OSHA inspector, Freddy told us he would mow the grass on Friday and asked us to please get him a pair of safety glasses. He explained to me (since I’m a woman and couldn’t possibly understand the intricacies of yard equipment), that it could be “muy peligroso”…very dangerous, to use the mower without safety glasses. Of course. Jim was thrilled it gave us yet another excuse to return to Richardson’s, the hardware store. Oh, yea. Jim’s enlarged his man-toy territory and we have another hardware store to add to our repertoire.

I just checked on Freddy to see how the mowing was going with the machete-on-wheels. He seems to be quite happy with the performance and he looks quite dashing with his new safety glasses. His smile of gratitude is priceless. It’s one he shows us frequently.

Right before we were moving in to this house, Freddy worked an extra day for us. He helped Jim move the loaded action packers and acted as a day guard while we left to go get new padlocks for the gates and doors. Because he was staying longer than normal on a day that was not a typical workday, we brought back lunch from one of our favorite little restaurants, Dona Blanca’s, for all of us to eat. This is one of those places that would scare you to death to think that we were going to ingest something cooked there but the food is remarkably good. And anymore, honestly, we just don’t even notice the dirt, the one-eyed dog and cat that wander through the place or the parrot in the open air kitchen. The warm greeting from Dona Blanca, the hug and kiss from the waitress and the stares and then smiles from the other patrons seem to overshadow the other stuff.

We had only our plastic lawn chairs and a little plastic table in the house at that time. I set up the lunch and called to Jim and Freddy, letting them know the food was ready. Jim came in to wash up but no sign of Freddy. We went to see where he was and he was out on the front porch and had washed off using the outside spigot. He would not come in to our house until Jim told him it was okay and motioned for him to come and sit at the table with us. He was bashful and uncertain. Jim took my hand and we both reached for Freddy’s so that Jim could give thanks for our food. Freddy, realizing we were going to pray, took off his hat and then, took our hands. As Jim prayed, so did Freddy. It was a special sound. Hearing these two precious men, thanking our Lord for their blessings, in their own native languages…I just knew Jesus was joining us for that lunch.

We had just gotten three dinners all alike – baked chicken with chayote and carrots, rice, beans and a potato stuffed with queso. It was delicious as usual and more food than Jim and I could eat. I noticed Freddy ate all of his except part of his chicken of which he had only taken a couple of bites. He asked if he could have a piece of paper to wrap it up to take home. I got him some napkins and a baggie and thought he must not be crazy about chicken but chose to take it home, not wanting to hurt my feelings by not eating it. I really didn’t think much more about it.

The next day, Freddy was working for us, again helping Jim move some things over in preparation for the large furniture and Susanna and I had taken her car to go pick up some things. We returned about lunch time and Susanna dropped me off and ran to pick up some lunch for the four of us at a little restaurant not too far from our house…another good place to get typical Nica food. She got 4 different meals with two of them being chicken and two being beef…all had beans, rice and tejadas (fried plantains). We let Freddy choose first and he chose one with chicken. Again, three of us had more food than we could eat and because I was busy talking instead of eating (imagine that!), I had quite a bit of food left. Freddy’s plate was clean except for the chicken…with just a few bites taken out. Again, he asked for a napkin. I repeated the previous day’s baggie and napkins donation.

As he and Jim were getting ready to go back out to the carport, I said something to Susanna that Freddy must not like chicken much and explained what he had done with the chicken both days. She said that chicken is expensive and is probably not a regular part of his families’ diet so that he was most likely taking it home as a treat for Gabriel, his little boy. My face must have revealed how upset I felt at hearing that as Susanna said that it was just how it is here for many folks. I couldn’t take another bite. My appetite was totally gone. My heart hurt with the understanding of his poverty and I could feel the tears building. Just when I think I’m “hardened” a bit to this place, I’m surprised by own tenderness. It’s true that this family of Freddy’s isn’t starving…but neither are they thriving.

Freddy brought the other dishes in to the kitchen to me and as I was standing there, staring out the window, he asked me if I was okay. He worries a lot about Jim and me. I told him I was fine. He asked if I was sick because I hadn’t eaten all my lunch. I told him no, I wasn’t hungry and then, praying I wouldn’t offend him, I asked him very quietly, if he would like to take my piece of chicken home also. He smiled that smile that is lit from within and nodded yes, as he just as quietly, answered, “Si.” And so for the third time in two days, I grabbed another baggie. I added in the beans, rice and tejadas. And I prayed God would multiply that lunch just as He had two thousand years ago with some fish and bread. We are such blessed people here…we get to be on both ends of a miracle…we get to be the giver of the “fish” for God to multiply and we get to be the recipients of genuinely heart-felt gratitude that comes bursting forth in a joyous smile…both feel like miracles on our end.