Last year while waiting for the school bell to ring everyday, I befriended an elderly Chinese woman. She had two grandchildren and she sat patiently and waited beside me every afternoon. She loved my children – always chatting with them and giggling as the boys made funny faces or smiled at her. She told me often to make sure my youngest had his feet covered (he loved taking his socks off and would not have a bar of footwear of any kind.) At times I thought I saw a twinkle in her eye and an itching to pick up and hold him. I didn’t offer to take him out of his pram – I worried that I might have misinterpreted those signs or that perhaps she was too frail to carry the little beast of a baby!
We spoke about the weather, especially the biting cold wind that seemed somehow to be worse on the school grounds than anywhere else. She taught me the Mandarin word for “strawberry.” At least, I think it was Mandarin. I’ve since forgotten the word. She giggled at my (mis)pronounciation. I don’t think I even came close. Sometimes we would just sit together without saying anything.
Her face lit up when her grandchildren finally strolled out of class (they seemed to take their time while the other children sprinted out). She talked quickly as she hugged them and started the walk to their home. I saw her sometimes as I drove home and watched in my rear view mirror; her face never lost that infectious smile and her grandchildren walked with her, laughing or stifling a giggle.
I didn’t ask her name. She never asked me mine.
In truth, she never spoke a word of English. We made ourselves understood by animated gestures or sometimes just a nod or a laugh. Politicians and many people in this country believe migrants need to learn English and pass an Australian values test. I’ve never thought it a necessity. I don’t know much about her family but I saw her take care of her grandchildren. I saw their smiling faces everyday and her undeniable love for them. My children looked forward to seeing her and were bitterly disappointed if we didn’t. I can say undoubtedly her family was that much richer, better and fuller as were mine for knowing her. There is no exam to measure her worth to this society.
On the first day of school this year I looked for her. She didn’t come to pick up her grandchildren. There was a much younger woman in her place (perhaps her daughter?). The next day I waited again. After a week of wondering and dreading, I plucked up the courage to ask her grandson about his grandmother.
“She’s gone back to China,” he said sadly.
Aww, this is so beautiful. You are lucky to have met her.
Salamaat,
So strange, I have been having the same experience with a Korean grandpa when I go to walks to a nearby lake w/ Sufyan. The most gorgeous smile and heart, and one day he gave sufyan a piece of candy (and my son acted like he had just won the lotto!) He is still around and he lights up my heart, without any words….or need for them. He doesn’t speak english either…thanks for sharing.
Its one of the things I like about Canada is the recognition of everybody’s culture and what it provides to the strengthening of a community, much unlike the US I find.
You are lucky to have met her, it was a special bond in human kindness.
It’s nice to see that we can override seemingly impossible barriers such as language and ethnicity.
There’s a lot of debate about in the UK as well, and to be honest I was feeling a bit put out by the influx these past few months (ok ok my parents were migrants but we had space then) but your story has made me check myself.
salam.
http://www.shadeofrahmah.blogspot.com
Wah, you befriended a nyonya ah! Yeah, I met and befriended an Afghan mom who can’t speak English much but we made do with sign languages and few English words. I think her 6 girls (1 baby born here) are now Aussie citizens and speak eloquent English considering they only arrived here less than 2 years ago. I think it is unfair to make elderly/ older people do a language test or such as our brains get kinda rusty as we get older and we can’t pick up languages etc that quickly as kids do. I honestly would hate to take or study for a test now.
Such seemingly chance meetings are wonderful, and you write abuot it so well
It was a teaching as well as a learning experience.
Ya Haqq!
What Mousehunter said.
Wow that is sucha wonderful story…reminds me of being here in Medina. You meet someone that you can barely communicate with but yet and still you had somuch that was said between you. amazing how you can’t speak a lnguage but you still can get by and have a more fulfilling feeling than if you were to have an actual conversation…strange.
I often come across people who have some difficulty with language, but as a Volunteer Tutor in literacy, I have made many new aquaintances, from many diverse cultures, through my work. For me it can be a two way street, often the Teacher becomes the student in our efforts to communicate.
I am even now online, tutoring and editing, student work from Malaysia and Singapore.
As for going back to my own country, I have been actually told that. As a New Muslim, you can imagine the surprise when I answered in a rather broad Aussie accent, saying that Sydney is too expensive, so I’ll stay in Brisbane.