my friend rita

i was having lunch at the relief tent in new orleans last saturday--beginning to grow calloused to the people and their stories--when she walked into my life and asked for the chair across from me. me and two of my crossings kiddos welcomed her and her husband to sit and eat with us. we were eating something like chef boyardee ravioli with rotel in it. i was trying to cough it down--feeling spoiled and guilty for wanting mcdonald's instead until she started talking. . .

telling story after story, full of nice people, kind hearts and helpful 'african americans' :) she was from a different place--a different time. a place and time i would pay to go if there were more people like her there.

they were elderly, the two of them. i'm guessing mid 80's. her voice was high and fragile as she spoke to us about her long life and beautiful marriage. her face was full of sweet smiles, her eyes full of tears as she told us her katrina story. as she recounted all the places that she and her husband tony stayed since the hurricane, i decided she was the love of my life. she was a vision, that little rita--all of 4 foot 9, watery blue eyes, soft box dyed red hair. she was the kind of grandmother that i read about in storybooks...and just the kind of woman to pause her all important engagment story to ask her husband of 60 years which kind of chips he prefers...and his soul, matching hers perfectly, begs her to choose...

i was under her spell in no time. i felt like i had always known her--always loved her.

as me and tony--her husband--began to talk, i discovered i liked him just as well. although he didn't have near as many stories to tell, he listened to all of hers with such commitment--as if it were the first time he had heard her speak of the subject.

as rita and tony told us their stories we listened authentic interest. rita has a way of capturing your soul in the first 5 minutes and everything she says from there on out is of particular interest because you love her and want to know her and help her...and you just want to listen so well that maybe she will love you like all the other kind and generous people in her stories.

after lunching with rita and tony--kyle, morgan and i had the urge to do something for them. because we knew their life story now, we knew that their house had already been gutted and they were on their way to sweep it out. we could not let the two of them do such a thing so we voluteered to help. rita started crying at our suggestion, therefore so did we...even kyle...a 16 year old cool kid. after awhile kyle was begging rita not to cry because that would mean he would have to also...

we followed rita and tony to their home of 39 years. they never had any children but rita said they'd love to adopt all of us young people that restored her hope in the upcoming generation. she was amazingly sweet and wonderful and charming and...

we got the grand tour through their once beautiful double door brick home. as we stared silently at the bare rafters and concrete floors that once was their home it was easy to imagine rita baking in the kitchen and tony reading the paper in the den. it was unspeakably sad to see them, know them, and concieve of their loss.

the three of us young folks swept out their house in 2 hours. a job that would have easily taken them 6 or more. it was funny. i think we felt privilidged to be a part of their lives. felt priviledged to be in the presence of rita, no matter what we were doing.

we waved goodbye to the two of them, after pictures hugs and many tears on rita's part. kyle hugged her and told her that he had no idea he was going to come to new orleans and fall in love with a little old lady...rita just smiled that sweet smile of hers and hugged him extra tight. i said goodbye as if i had known her my whole life and in a way i have...she is who i've always wanted to be.

so the two of them loaded up in their buick, windows down and waving as she yelled,

"save some sweeping for me!"

so she was in the car and came back the house for no particular reason except for me to say, "rita, i wish i had a grandma just like you..." to which she responded, "if i had a grandaughter i wish you were she."

i cried.

i want to be rita one day.

i want my life to be so full of Christ's light that no one can meet me without

feeling loved--

being loved--

knowing love.