May 3 – “The Visitor”

We went by the Oleander Festival over at Moody Gardens yesterday.  Didn’t see Betty Head, though. That’s what we were hoping for.  After all, she is the woman of the hour.  Lifetime achievement award and even had a park named after her.  It’s really nice when something like that happens before a person dies so they can see the appreciation people have for their efforts.  And that is one special lady.  Oh and did I mention she was probably my Mom’s best friend?  Many congrats to the Oleander Lady, Betty Head.

Back at the house, we had one of the most interesting … and certainly unusual … visitors that we have ever had.  Ever.  I heard a knock at the front door and went to investigate.  Now usually Chris answers when it is a woman, but she was busy in the bedroom, so I made the approach.  There stood a frail looking old lady leaning heavily on her cane.  I opened the door and said hello.  The brief conversation that followed went like this:

The visitor: “No hablo espanol, es verdad?”

Me: “Si, solo muy poquito.”

The visitor: “Ah, bien, bien”

Obviously disappointed, and unwilling to attempt further communication in my TexMex dialect, she shook her head from side to side and slowly shuffled back to the shiny new black SUV parked in the street obviously waiting for her.  Now what do you do with that?  Was this some kind of new infiltration technique by the Mexican Mafia?  Was a border drug cartel softening me up for a future incursion into the neighborhood?  Was she a renegade Jehovah’s Witness missionary working on her own?  Was she casing our house for her accomplice who would return later for the break-in?  Was she an alien in disguise who learned our language by listening to broadcasts of Mexican TV novelas?  That would certainly explain her confusion when I was unable to communicate.  Was she an angel searching for someone to present with a particular message from God that was to be delivered in Spanish?  Or maybe … just maybe, mind you … Was she just a sweet old lady who happened to approach the wrong house?  I certainly hope she at least found someone to communicate with further down the street.  I do admire her courage, approaching a random house like that.  Maybe that’s something we could try on our vacation.  I wonder how the residents of a random suburb in Louisville, Kentucky, would take to a random old guy knocking on their door and hearing, in my best Texan drawl, “Howdy, y’all.” 

1 Chronicles 16:34 says, “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.”

Father, watch over that sweet little lady.  Keep her safe in whatever it was she was doing.  Amen.