Para la mujer latina
About Me
Fun Facts about Van Walton
My favorite smell: The way the earth smells after it rains.
My favorite sound: The first notes of a grand symphony.
My favorite way to relax: Sitting anywhere outside - on my front porch, on my deck, or by the lake, early in the morning with my first cup of coffee.
My favorite birthday dessert: a Peach cobbler baked by my husband. He’s my fave chef!
I will not eat: Avocado. They turn my stomach into a volcano that never erupts.
Technology I couldn't live without and why: My laptop - it takes me anywhere I want to go.
One thing that makes me smile: My sons' faces!
Friend Van on FacebookMy Resources
My book, From the Pound to the Palace, is available for $10
from Proverbs 31 Ministries.
My book, Little Halos, is available for $5.99 from Proverbs
31 Ministries.
Proverbs 31 Ministries
Proverbs 31 Speakers
Links
Friday, May 1, 2009
NEIGHBORLY DILEMMAS
Today I had a definite - out of my garden and into the junlge experience. I stepped out of my comfort zone!
We have a routine when we travel. Our little dog – yes the star of my book and children’s special event- goes to the house of a friend who loves him. Her boys love him even more. He is so good she calls him the gentleman.
Only she calls him the “caballero.” That is gentleman in Spanish.
My friend is from the Dominican Republic and speaks very little English.
She asked me to do her a favor when I took Air – that’s my dog’s name, in case you didn’t know, to her house this afternoon.
My son named him after his favorite star- Michael AIR Jordan!
“Sure,” I said. In Spanish. “How can I help you?”
Shouldn’t have been so willing to help.
“I have a problem with my neighbor,” she told me.
Uh oh. I don’t confront neighbors. Fortunately never really have had to. Blessed me.
Any way – she wanted me to step across the street and ask the neighbor to keep their cat out of her yard. It had dug up all her freshly planted flowers – I could feel for her – and the cat had left its little dark, long, stinky packages- gifts all over her flower beds. YUK
So she voted me to talk to her neighbor, ‘cuz she didn’t feel she could be understood if she spoke to them in broken English.
“Pray.” I told her!
We walked across the street. All the blinds were pulled tight.
We knocked. Nothing happened.
We knocked again. Someone peered through the blinds.
That was it, but the boy of the house peered through again and saw me smiling at him.
He cracked open the door and I asked to speak to a parent.
He shut the door! Then he came back, opened the door and reluctantly mumbled to someone in the house.
I braced myself.
A big man with no shirt showed up.
All I could see were tatoos. I had a hard time making eye contact with him.
The whole scene, house and little boy included, was creepy.
I smiled, took a deep breath and explained the problem.
“Your neighbor” I pointed to her. “She doesn’t speak English and asked me to ask you if you could please keep her cat home. You see, she really likes working in her flower bed and it is nasty when she has to sniff little gift packages left by your cat. Oh and she spent lots of money on flowers that have been dug up by your cat.”
I smiled, well sorta' - weakly I might add...
He stared at me. He seemed shocked. Incredulous.
I wondered when was the last time he had left his house, spoken to another human being.
He looked at me a long time.
I, opened my eyes wide to prompt him to reply. Nodded my head: up and down... w
Mr. big bare tatooed chest man didn't seem to know how to communicate.
Finally words rolled out of his mouth:
“I can’t tell my cat where he can go. I mean it is a cat. How am I supposed to keep my cat out of her yard. That is what cats do. They roam.”
“I understand, sir, but that is her yard and she takes great pride in her flowers and flower beds.”
He attempted to comply by saying he would try to keep his cat out of her yard, but reminded me, “Cats roam.”
Then I felt I had to get a little firm with him.
“Sir, that is her private property. She has no pets and she is simply making a small request.”
Again, he stared. I could see his thoughts running around in his mind, trying to come together, attempting to line up so he could speak.
Tatoo-covered-bare-chested man smiled at her and spoke in Spanish,
“Lo siento.” I’m sorry. I feel for you.
“OK” my friend smiled.
We turned around and walked away.
“One thing,” I said to her before I drove away.
“Take him a plate of cookies.”
As I drove away from the neighborhood I sank into saddness.
Sad for a little boy who lives in that house.
Sad for a man that doesn't seem to understand about neighbors, yet has a kind heart .
Sad that the only encounter I may ever have with them is to file a complaint. I don’t like to complain to ANYBODY.
What would you do?
God. please watch over that family.
We have a routine when we travel. Our little dog – yes the star of my book and children’s special event- goes to the house of a friend who loves him. Her boys love him even more. He is so good she calls him the gentleman.
Only she calls him the “caballero.” That is gentleman in Spanish.
My friend is from the Dominican Republic and speaks very little English.
She asked me to do her a favor when I took Air – that’s my dog’s name, in case you didn’t know, to her house this afternoon.
My son named him after his favorite star- Michael AIR Jordan!
“Sure,” I said. In Spanish. “How can I help you?”
Shouldn’t have been so willing to help.
“I have a problem with my neighbor,” she told me.
Uh oh. I don’t confront neighbors. Fortunately never really have had to. Blessed me.
Any way – she wanted me to step across the street and ask the neighbor to keep their cat out of her yard. It had dug up all her freshly planted flowers – I could feel for her – and the cat had left its little dark, long, stinky packages- gifts all over her flower beds. YUK
So she voted me to talk to her neighbor, ‘cuz she didn’t feel she could be understood if she spoke to them in broken English.
“Pray.” I told her!
We walked across the street. All the blinds were pulled tight.
We knocked. Nothing happened.
We knocked again. Someone peered through the blinds.
That was it, but the boy of the house peered through again and saw me smiling at him.
He cracked open the door and I asked to speak to a parent.
He shut the door! Then he came back, opened the door and reluctantly mumbled to someone in the house.
I braced myself.
A big man with no shirt showed up.
All I could see were tatoos. I had a hard time making eye contact with him.
The whole scene, house and little boy included, was creepy.
I smiled, took a deep breath and explained the problem.
“Your neighbor” I pointed to her. “She doesn’t speak English and asked me to ask you if you could please keep her cat home. You see, she really likes working in her flower bed and it is nasty when she has to sniff little gift packages left by your cat. Oh and she spent lots of money on flowers that have been dug up by your cat.”
I smiled, well sorta' - weakly I might add...
He stared at me. He seemed shocked. Incredulous.
I wondered when was the last time he had left his house, spoken to another human being.
He looked at me a long time.
I, opened my eyes wide to prompt him to reply. Nodded my head: up and down... w
Mr. big bare tatooed chest man didn't seem to know how to communicate.
Finally words rolled out of his mouth:
“I can’t tell my cat where he can go. I mean it is a cat. How am I supposed to keep my cat out of her yard. That is what cats do. They roam.”
“I understand, sir, but that is her yard and she takes great pride in her flowers and flower beds.”
He attempted to comply by saying he would try to keep his cat out of her yard, but reminded me, “Cats roam.”
Then I felt I had to get a little firm with him.
“Sir, that is her private property. She has no pets and she is simply making a small request.”
Again, he stared. I could see his thoughts running around in his mind, trying to come together, attempting to line up so he could speak.
Tatoo-covered-bare-chested man smiled at her and spoke in Spanish,
“Lo siento.” I’m sorry. I feel for you.
“OK” my friend smiled.
We turned around and walked away.
“One thing,” I said to her before I drove away.
“Take him a plate of cookies.”
As I drove away from the neighborhood I sank into saddness.
Sad for a little boy who lives in that house.
Sad for a man that doesn't seem to understand about neighbors, yet has a kind heart .
Sad that the only encounter I may ever have with them is to file a complaint. I don’t like to complain to ANYBODY.
What would you do?
God. please watch over that family.
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4 comments:
Oh, my...what COURAGE it took for you to confront those neighbors! I don't think I could have done that!
I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate your comments on my blog.
Give the vlog a try. Hey, if you can confront big, burly men, you can handle recording a little video! :o)
Blessings...
WOW! I believe the Lord was definitely in that encounter. He did answer prayer. You weren't met with a door shut in your face or an outburst of anger. Maybe the 'cat' was/is God's instrument for further contact with this family, and definitely for continued prayer. Maybe no-one has ever prayed for this family before. God could certainly use a 'cat' to show this gentleman His love. I think taking him cookies is a lovely idea...and another opportunity.
I'll be praying too,
Joy
Wow...I feel for you. You did a good thing for your amiga.
Melanie@Bella~Mella
I am sorry but this story gave me a good chuckle - seeing you confront the burly tatooed hairy bare chested man in my mind! You are one of the bravest women I know and one of the most gracious friends on this planet.
I am so thankful to have you in my life.
Oh, and will you come over and help me with a neighborhood issue I am having? A itsy tiny dog who leaves itty bitty droppings in my yard, tempting my beagle to eat it as a little afternoon snack - so gross!!!
Love you!
Renee