Black Beans

Lots of my mind.  A miles long “to do” list with more that needs added to it swirling in my head.  Decisions to be made.  Laundry to be done.  Suitcases to unpack.

 A. DAY.  OFF.  WORK.

“Should” use the time wisely to focus on getting things accomplished.  “Should” triage the to-dos and focus on steadily checking them off.  Should, should, should, should, should.

Instead, I slept in.  Woke up around 10:30 am, tossed around the bed a bit thinking I “should” go back to sleep.  No, I “should” get up.  What is the deal with all of these should s??

Then I heard someone on the front porch.  That’s not that unusual – could be someone dropping off donations for the free pantry, an Amazon delivery, someone picking something up that I offered on Buy Nothing.

The doorbell rang.  I peeked out the blinds – it was my artist friend. 

She has been coming to work here daily for the last month and a half in preparation for the big Kindness Fundraiser Yard Sale.  She is the hardest worker ever – will tackle any task that you assign.  But she has been sick lately, too sick to work.  And if you know her, that means she has been very sick, because not much can keep her down.

I threw on a robe and opened the door to greet her, knowing full well that my “hello” could start a very long conversation, because she loves to chat.  But in that moment I decided that on THIS DAY, this day of “should”s, I would take a break.  I would pause.  And I would listen.

We talked a bit, I restocked the Little Yellow Free Pantry and put out the daily poll, and then I made myself a cup of coffee (she didn’t want anything) and sat down on the porch steps in my mismatched pajamas to listen. 

Our “conversations” are really more her stream of consciousness talking.  Oh sure, I insert an, “Oh really?” or a “Wow!” or a “Wait, back up, tell me that again??” every once in a while, but the “conversations” are her talking about the topics that swirl in her mind.  She doesn’t get the opportunity to express herself freely all that often, so today I decided to grant that gift. 

She told some of the same stories I have heard many times.  She spoke of some new topics.  Several warnings were issued (she cares deeply about my safety).  Some secrets were told, which were lovely because they do not need to be prefaced with, “And Susan, this is a secret…” because her body language clearly labels the upcoming message as such.  She leans way in, tilts her head down, and lowers her voice to a whisper (which is hard to hear with the traffic in the background) before divulging any and all secrets.

But one story she told today stuck out.  It was a new one for me, and she knew she had not shared it before.  “Susan, I never told you this, but…” was the opening for this tale.

My friend gets sick a lot.  Often, she is poisoned.  She relies on Eastern medicine, herbs, and traditions for healing herself.  And one thing she often needs to rid her body of poisons is BLACK BEANS.  What antibiotics are to Western medicine, black beans are to my friend.

“Susan,” she began, as she begins each and every sentence she says to me.  “Susan, one time, before I met you, I was very, very sick.  Poison.  So sick.  And I had no money.  At that time, no food card.  No money.  I needed black beans.  But I didn’t know anyone here, I had just moved here.  I was sick.  I didn’t know what to do.”

So, she went outside, while very sick and frail, to try and find someone to help her.    She told me that the “yellow food box” as she calls it was there, but there were no beans inside.  She and I had not met yet, so she did not know that she could ring the doorbell and ask for beans.  She knew no one.

She found a man and spoke with him.  She explained her need for black beans.  He asked if she had a bankcard and could get money out to buy them.  She told him no, she had no bank, no money, but was in desperate need of the beans.  He seemed to understand, she told me, and he said he would help.  He told her he had somewhere to go, but when he was done with that errand, he would get her black beans and put them in her mailbox.  He even told her a time that she could expect them.

She waited. 

The beans were never delivered.

Now, why that happened we will never know.  Did he not understand the urgency?  Did he just say he would help her to get himself out of an uncomfortable situation?  Did he forget??

I am not sure why he did not do what she feels he promised.  But I am sure that remembering the situation made her very sad.  “Susan, WHY did he not bring the beans?  He said he would.  I looked in the mailbox – no beans.  Why?”. 

Still in pain, she searched for someone else to ask.  She found a woman, someone she thinks she now recognizes as a friend of mine that she calls “the translator”.  She told me that she saw the woman putting food in the food box and asked if there were any black beans, but the translator said there were not.  My friend explained that she very badly needed the beans, and the translator understood.  She assured my friend that she would get the beans, if she would just wait.

And that lovely, kind woman went to the grocery store and returned with two bags of black beans.

My friend’s eyes teared up telling this story.  “Two bags of beans, Susan.  Two bags.  Only $2.50.  The man said he would help, but no beans.  The woman, the woman saved my life.”  Tears fell.

Just beans.

But so much more.

An opportunity to connect.  A chance to be kind.  An avenue to repair broken trust in strangers.  Medicine.

I may not check many things off of my to do list today.  But I have been reminded of the importance of listening.  And caring.  And kindness.  And sharing.

The to do list can wait – real human connection cannot.