We are not
party people. I am not comfortable AT
parties – the socializing and loud talking feel foreign. What is one supposed to SAY? Who are you supposed to TALK TO? Parties just end up as stressors for me.
And double
for HOSTING them – we just don’t do it.
Oh sure, once in a while in Florida we will have a couple of neighbors
over, and even THAT small affair involves much preparation and hustling
about. But I don’t know if we have ever
hosted a party in Virginia. Our house is
never “right”: there are dust bunnies, there
are dirty socks on the floor, the tub is dirty.
But tonight
we threw a party in Arlington. A SLIP
‘n’ SLIDE party. It was to be a
celebration of the heat – of the summer.
It has been over 100 degrees with the heat index the last few days. I wanted to bust out the Slip ‘n’ Slide the
other night, but our houseguests ended up going out that evening and it seemed
wrong to do it without them. So we
planned just yesterday to have a PARTY tonight.
I invited people via Facebook. I
invited people via email. And for those
neighbors who we did not have an electronic contact, I wrote and printed fun
paper invites and we delivered them at midnight after ushering and seeing a
play.
Today
involved cupcake frosting, cookie baking, salad making, and general prep. Some of it was done in a swim suit! And it involved many trips from the BACK DOOR
allll the way around the house to the front porch (the front door is sealed due
to work being done on the dining room ceiling).
We had no idea how many people would show up. I felt ready an hour early at 6 pm. Finally, at 6:58 pm, the daughter of a
neighbor (aged 13) and her little nephew (around 6) came over. We had hand delivered a paper invite to the
girl on the way to the play and she beamed when she read it. But now, here they were walking across the
lawn and it was just THEM and ME. “Where
is everyone?” she asked. I wanted to say
the truth, “This might BE everyone….” but instead I said, “Well, you are the
first to arrive! But I know the little
girl next door is coming, and her friend, and 2 adults!”. Which was true – they had confirmed. But still – that didn’t seem like enough to
make it a PARTY.
But it
was! Those two children went home and
put on swim suits while I went and got the neighbor girl and her friend who had
been prancing in their swimming suits over an hour asking, “Susan – can we come
on the water slide now???”. And then
there we were – Abdullah (the little boy), his aunt Fador (I think that is the
13 year old girl’s name), Julie, and Sanaa (both aged 6). And we SLID.
Abdullah was not a good slider- he could NOT get the hang of it and it
was quite funny. And each time he
finished he had water in his little Indian eyes and would bat about like a
blind man for a towel. Very sweet. Eventually a couple adults came to watch the
kids slide, but no adults (except me) were sliding. Then David came back from picking up fried
chicken and he slid. And Korin and Josh
(adults) came and they slid. A big storm
was blowing in and we were trying to get enough sliding in before that
happened.
I had made a
neon yellow sign that said “Slip ‘n Slide –join us!!”. And in the heat of this week and I really
thought we could convince a jogger or biker to get on that water slide with us. But with the wind starting to blow and the
temperature coming down to a manageable level, no one seemed serious about
stopping to join the fun. I told the
kids that anyone who convinced a stranger to stop and slide got a prize – which
upped the ante and they yelled “fFee slide!
No money!! Come on! I want a priiiize!!”. Two young men walked by and I thought I
remembered them from buying something at our garage sale. So I tried to help out Nola, a little 4 year
old neighbor girl who was taking her turn at the sign. I hollered “HEY! Come slide!
It’s fun!! And this girl wins a
PRIZE if a stranger stops and slides!!!
Didn’t you buy something at our garage sale? Come ON – look how cute this girl is!! Don’t you want her to win a prize?? Don’t break her heart - just slide!!!”. It was fun to holler at them and I did tug at
their heart strings – you could tell they felt bad for not sliding. But they were in pants and shirts, not swim
suits or even running shorts. They said
they would come back later. Yeah, right.
BUT THEY
DID! Shawn and Cyrus. They came back, and Shawn SLID. Fully clothed. Slid down that slip ‘n’ slide in his khaki
pants and t shirt! Go Shawn – get down
with your fearless self!! I invited
them up to the porch for a drink and food.
They sat and talked a couple hours.
They were nice, one was very talkative (though a bit smelly). Turned out, they weren’t the kids I thought
they were who shopped at our garage sale.
I heard someone ask if they lived in the neighborhood and thought I
caught a reply that they did, not on this street though.
Then, near
the end of the night, when just a few people were left, someone else asked
where they lived. And the response was
cagey. Something like, “oh, here, there… Around.
I try not to get tied down….”
And I
realized – they are homeless. The party
that I feared may not be a success, was indeed a smashing success. It had attracted just the right men at just
the right moment. And because of the
volunteer work we had done with the homeless count last year, I felt
comfortable asking, “So, do you live on the street?”. And that opener allowed them to be honest and
to explain their situations. To not have
to be cagey, but to tell us what they felt about this shelter system and that
one. And that, “I could live on the
streets indefinitely really!”. It didn’t
seem so bad when explained by Cyrus.
And that is
how two uninvited guests made me thankful that we threw a party. A welcoming party. A party where all who wanted to could slide.
P.S.- four year old Nola thinks our dirty, harvest
gold bathroom is “BEAUTIFUL!!!”. J
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