Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Mi Casa Su Casa

   ‘Mi casa su casa,’ wasn’t just a saying. My dad really believed in that slogan. If someone came to the house and dinner was on the table. They were invited to eat and if there wasn't enough; dad took a look in the cupboard and figure out something. From adding a little water and onion to the chili to an extra can of corn for the Goulash.
  I remember how he treated people, when they came to the door. He would treat them like family. I would bring friends over with special needs. Say wheelchair bound.
  "I sorry, about not getting your chair in here," he said, to one of my friend who had to be carried in.
  "That’s okay sir, I won’t be here long."
  "It not okay," he replied.
  To the surprise of my friend, the next time we showed up, my dad had built a portable ramp, ten feet long that we carried from around the side of the house. It was four feet wide and was built strong. It really bother him that he someone had to be confined in a lounge chair that needed a power chair to get around.
  He even took in foster kids, starting with a friend of mine. Who had lost his father to cancer and his mother to drugs. It didn't matter what brought them there. He did his best to make them comfortable.
  If someone came to the house and their car broke down.
  He would be the first to say, “pop the hood and let's have a look.”
  One day, a friend of my drove in and his car wouldn't start he tried to leave. So dad pulled out a flashlight and headed out to see what he could do. After a few minutes we figured out that it was the starter. Well, my friend couldn't afford it so dad put it on his auto parts account and explained to my friend how to fix that car. My friend showed up a few days a week and worked for my dad to pay off the starter.
  That was the way my dad was, once he met someone at a gas station that was having trouble with their car. Dad told them if they followed him home he would fix their car. They sat in the car for an hour while my dad repaired it. He even replaced the sparkplugs.
  When the car was fixed, I asked him, “How much he was charging them for the work?”
  "Nothing," he announced.
  "But," I muttered.
  "They don't have it even if I were to ask."
  That was just the kind of man he was always looking out for the other guy. Now, if they had they money we were eating steak.
  If you have any stories you would like to share about my father’s kindness, or your own parents kindness to others, please leave a comment.

1 comment:

  1. I remember a time why I called James and he wasn’t there. Mr. Farnworth answered the phone and he asked, what did I need. I told him that I needed help from James to make me something to eat. I didn’t have much in the cupboards. His response to that was, we are going to have to fix that.
    He asked, do you like turkey, cheese and other fixings you would find on a sandwich. I hope you like homemade bread, he stated. After an hour or so they showed up, with a very tasty sandwich and a sack of canned good.
    It reminded me that there are still good people in the world.