on winning and remembering

This is me in college (and yes, everyone had that much hair!)  I share it with you because I recently was reminded of something that happened to me during college.  The memory came in a rush when visiting this post by Lindsey at The Pleated Poppy.

We were asked to comment on a time when we were the recipient of hospitality for a chance to receive this book.  The author herself was going to choose a winner.  And my comment was chosen!

This is the story I shared:

When I was in college — over 20 years ago — I befriended an older woman who cleaned my floor in the residence hall. She was very helpful and friendly to everyone, but spoke English with a very heavy accent. Every time I would see her working in the building I would take a few minutes to talk with her. My class schedule was such that I would often see her eating lunch. I would stand in the doorway of the small room that served as the supply closet and her break room and talk to her as she ate. The room was tiny with a tall, thin window and just enough space for a small table and two wooden chairs — lined up next to the cleaning supplies, and vacuum cleaner, and trash bags. I do recall there being some special touches to the space, some things she placed to make it personal and pretty.
 
One day she invited me to join her for a lunch. She must have asked about my favorites, because she made me a steak on a little plug in griddle, right there in her break room. I don’t recall many details of the meal, but I remember the smell and sizzle of that steak, and the overwhelming feeling of being cared for. I think there was a salad and maybe brownies for dessert, I am not quite sure. Though I do remember painting her fingernails afterwards — my contribution to our time together.
It has easily been 20 years since I have thought of this meal, and it is striking to me how this diminutive, smart, kind woman could transform her small supply closet into a place filled with such hospitality and kindness. Maybe it was she who befriended me after all.

It's funny, I haven't thought of this lunch, or the sweet woman who cooked it for me, in easily 20 years.  Though since posting my comment last week, I have thought about it many times.  Many details came to me clearly after all of this time, but I could not remember her name.

I am struck with how my 42 year old perspective of her generosity and friendship is richer and more grateful in the remembering, than when I was a 20 year old big-haired college student.  She didn't have to welcome me as she did, but yet, she did.

I believe the larger gift to me has been in my remembering.

I like to believe that her quiet lesson on welcoming has remained with me, has served me all of these years since being a student.

I like to believe that my openness to her was a gift also, in some small way.

Thank you dear, kind woman.

Thank you for being with me 20 years ago.

Thank you for returning to me now, enlarging your gift.

Thank you, ah I remember now, Melvina.


{epilogue}
As Melvina kept coming to mind I thought maybe, just maybe, I could her track her down and thank her.  Maybe write her a note to express my gratitude for her kindness so long ago.  Maybe even arrange a quick visit.  Take her a loaf of bread.

So I called my alma mater to see what I could find out.  Certainly she is retired by now.  Maybe even still in the area.  Could she live close by?

The person in alumna relations who answered the phone accessed the database of all employees current and former, and was able to give me some good information.

It turns out Melvina is actually spelled Malvina.  Ah yes, that sounded more familiar.

Malvina started work in custodial services at the college in 1965.  Wow.  1965.

She worked until mid 2008.

Malvina passed away in the fall of 2008.

It was hard not to cry as she shared this news.

So I won't be taking Malvina a loaf of bread, or sending her a note.  But I will try and pass along her same kind of kindness.  Maybe you can too.