Middle of Everywhere - Mary Bray Pipher [61]
While Walat and Fatima passed out slices of bread and pumpkin pie, Grace served cups of chicken soup. Then she said, "Let's all go around the table and say what we are thankful for." Ignazio, his mouth fall of soup, said, "Food," and everyone laughed. Trinh whispered, "My house," so quietly only a few of us heard her. Walat said, "I am thankful for books." Khoa shouted out, "Toys and pizza."
Abdul didn't want to answer, but when Grace pushed he said shyly, "My teachers." Mai said, "I am thankful for Amy and my baby brother." Deena said, "For our church that gave us clothes and furniture." Fatima said, "I am thankful to the hospital that treated my burns." Pavel said, "I am thankful for Sunny." Everyone cheered. Ly said, "I am thankful for Miss Mary." I asked myself, How did I deserve this honor?
We ate the healthy soup in silence. Unlike many American children, these children don't take food for granted. They came from places where food is respected and where people had been hungry. But today's meal was more than vitamin supplements designed to keep humans alive. Food celebrated the soul of our little community. It is our most ancient and beautiful ritual of connection.
While the kids ate, Walat took pictures with Grace's camera. Khoa, Pavel, and Ignazio got into a contest to see who could drink the most cider. The tables were cleared and the music games began, "Itsy Bitsy Spider" was first, followed by "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes," then the "Chicken Dance." Only Ignazio and Trinh didn't seem to like dancing. Trinh didn't have the energy and Ignazio just didn't like to move much.
By noon the music was Cuban music, easy to dance to any way we liked. Deena passed out temporary tattoos. Walat took photo after photo of the singers and dancers. Khoa mugged for the camera, sticking out his tongue and then his behind. Abdul twirled a hula hoop in time to the music. Mai, usually so serious, did a mean belly dance. Ly and Fatima held hands and twirled in a circle. Deena joined in on the choruses, softly, but with us. Only Trinh was in a corner watching.
It takes so little to make a party with children—a little food and permission to dance and sing. I was happier than I usually felt. The energy and the joy were infectious and I started thinking of all I was thankful for—my health, my family, my work, and finally my time with these kids who brought into my life something I hadn't had for a long time—the strong, fresh energy of childhood.
January 4, 2000
We made it into the new year with no Y2K disasters in our town. As I walked past the bare sycamore I thought that a new century had commenced and that the new century belonged to these children, not to me.
I arrived in the cold classroom to the news that Fatima had broken her arm. She had a cast covered with Snoopys and was playing Uno with Deena. It was below zero outside and Deena was wearing sandals and socks decorated with reindeer and Christmas trees. She had only her red cloak for a coat. I sat down beside the girls, watching the game and smelling their familiar garlic breath.
Pavel came over and allowed me to stroke Sunny. Ly jumped in my lap and showed me a puzzle she was working on. But when I unthinkingly asked about her holidays, she changed the subject.
Grace was worried about Deena, who had made low scores on standardized tests that require fluent English. Her parents felt she should have made a hundred percent on this test. Grace had tried to explain that no one made a hundred percent, but Deena's father felt Grace was being too easy on Deena. They had ordered Deena to her room from after school until bedtime every day for a month. Still Deena didn't seem too much the worse for wear. At least she knew her parents considered education important.
Grace said Abdul had been placed in a special education class first period and would come in at 9:00. She had fought this placement all first semester but had now acquiesced. Abdul