THE STRANGER IN MY HOME
  • Home
  • Vignettes
    • Encounters
    • Events
    • Experiences
    • Epiphanies
  • Stories
  • Fables
  • Translations
  • Miscellany
  • Now/Then

now  /  then

blogs and blends

The girl who went her way

7/26/2022

0 Comments

 
Published in The Statesman, 17 January 2022
​
It was a bright, cold winter morning when she decided to make up her mind. To stay or to leave. For a fourteen-year-old, it wasn’t an easy choice, for it was a life-turning decision. To stay in her parents’ home or to go out into the world – without the slightest idea about what to expect.
 
Her mother was alienated from her relatives; she couldn’t turn to them. She knew nobody else except a few neighbors and tradesmen in her small town in Virginia. She had saved a few dollars from the odd jobs she did for the local grocery and a dress shop. That saving would not go far in a city. It was a city she had to go to, for that is where she was likely to find work and shelter.
Picture
​Her father had died five years ago and her mother had married, the summer before last, a man nobody thought well of save her mother. He worked as a mason but earned so little that she knew he leaned on her mother. His bitter sarcasm was loathsome, his occasional intimate moves even more so. It wasn’t safe to live under the same roof with him.
 
She waited for the weekend when her mother and stepfather went out together for a drink. She had checked the bus time earlier. Now she packed the suitcase she had hidden under her bed, wrote a note to her mother, went to the depot and bought a ticket for Richmond. Once there, she trudged her way to the local church that she knew had a shelter for girls.
 
That is how her new life began. The church found her a cleaning job nearby. She found a second job on her own, looking after a widow’s two small children while she held an evening job at a call center. After four months, she also took a part-time responsibility at the church itself which earned her a few more dollars. Once she was sure of her three-way allocation of time, she went back to school.
 
I was talking with Moira, the Outreach Supervisor of the Richmond church. She also served on the county’s board that looked after refugee rehabilitation and that is how we had met because of my work. Her formal blue-gray dress and quiet demeanor might have suggested a woman of fifty, but her sprightly responses combined with her ready smile made me place her in the early forties. I had asked her about the background of the average woman in their shelter and she had started on a typical case history. Moira pushed a newly brewed cup of coffee toward me and resumed the story.
 
The girl worked long hours, slept a few hours and devoted every available minute to her class lessons. She graduated creditably from high school and the church considerately reduced her hours and increased her pay. The widow found her a job at the call center, where she quickly became a star employee. In three years straight she finished college, securing a scholarship the last two years.
 
She received other job offers, but she decided, from a sense of gratitude, to work for the church in its outreach department. This is where she came across some refugees from South America and East Asia and felt deeply committed to help. She identified with them, for she was once a refuge seeker herself, and she contributed hours of service in the county to help them. She even learned some Spanish to connect with people from Salvador and Guatemala. Her outreach work in the church also slowly veered more toward poor and helpless refugees.
 
When Moira stopped, she knew she had let out the secret. What she began telling me was the case history of the shelter’s average denizen; what she had ended up with – it was clear to us both – was her very personal story of survival and success. She had overcome overwhelming odds and achieved her goal of doing what she felt was important to do.
 
What Moira did not know was the surprise I was about to spring her. The county board had decided that they wanted to create a new position of a Refugee Director and we had informally agreed to make the offer to Moira. We had already quietly gathered some of her personal data from the church and I was asked to explore more by personally talking to her. Now I knew her full story and I felt I could confidently tell the board that Moira was the right person for the job.
 
I said, “Moira, I have not been entirely candid with you. I am something special to tell you, and your story was the right place to start.” I then told her that the board wanted her for the new position, which would be an important position where she could continue her life’s chosen work. I added that she could continue her church work as a volunteer.
 
Moira was touched and overwhelmed. She would be able to contribute to the refugee community far more than before.
 
I still had a personal curiosity, but I hesitated. “Are you in touch with your parents?”
 
“My stepfather died three months ago. I have persuaded my mother to come and live with me as soon as she can sell the small house she owns.”
 
This too was characteristic of Moira.
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Manish Nandy

    Writer, Speaker, Consultant
    Earlier: Diplomat, Executive


    Archives

    January 2022
    December 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015

    RSS Feed


    Categories

    All

Proudly powered by Weebly
© Manish Nandy 2015  The Stranger in My Home