Have you ever met someone who give you the chills in a good way? When they speak, their words and wisdom touch you deeply; profoundly. I have been privileged to know such a woman, and to know her well because over the years we have shared many a coffee, pan dulce and even copa de vino (wine) while she poured out her wisdom through the stories of her life. When she talks I slow down and engage in the lost art of listening and I am transported to her past. She entertains, inspires and shares crucial lessons — always initiating the story with a Mexican dicho (saying). A woman who has worked harder than most of us over her 85 years of life, she is usually compelled to keep busy while she chats, washing the dishes of whomever’s kitchen she may be visiting, folding clothes or sewing a square of quilt.
Doña Leonor was my neighbor for 12 years. We shared a quiet West Brownsville street. She cared for my kids, brought me atole after my babies were born, sewed on Boy Scout patches, and showed me the joy and therapy of hanging laundry in the sun to dry. She delivered us fresh, homemade tortillas every Saturday morning and her chile rellenos are to die for! The patio of her little casita was kid central for the neighborhood — and is covered with plants in colorful macetas, many of which are the ancestors of the herbs, flowers and trees that now landscape my yard. She possesses a green thumb in the garden and a magic touch in the kitchen. She cares for all of the lonely, elderly women in the neighborhood, making sure they get a plate to eat, a cup of coffee and good conversation when they need it. Her spirit brightens a room and she is able to converse with people from all backgrounds, cultures and every socio-economic strata.She has influenced me at a profound level.
Doña Leonor comes from humble beginnings, a small mountain village in Michoacan, Mexico, where her mother died when she was still a young teen and she was forced to care for her many siblings. She eventually made her way to the border and married a shrimper from Port Isabel. She lived in what was then called “Mexican Town,” later completely wiped out by Hurricane Beulah. Although I’m sure it was a humble place of poor worker shacks, she describes the lovely bay breeze blowing in through the back door and out the front, keeping she and her seven kids cool without an air conditioner or fan, even in the hottest months of summer. While her husband was gone shrimping, Doña Leonor worked many jobs to make ends meet, mostly at night so she could leave the kids sleeping with one of their older siblings. She washed dishes and cooked for small restaurants and has spent much of her subsequent life working in kitchens, ironing, sewing and providing childcare.
Unfortunately the Shrimper drank a lot and was abusive to Leonor, so she planned her escape, not being one to stick around in an unhealthy situation. Her eldest son graduated from high school and had moved to Houston to work, so she packed up the kids and journeyed north with his support. Her first years in a Houston tenement were difficult — a single mom in a “foreign” city and she didn’t speak English (she has since learned it and become a U.S. citizen). She worked long hours for little pay. But her kids grew up and she eventually remarried Rafael, who passed away only a few years ago. She has not been without heartache and struggle — the loss of a daughter, daughter-in-law and sister to cancer, the long-term illness of another daughter and her greatest “Calvario” (cross to bear) as she calls it — caring for her husband Rafa for years after his multiple strokes disabled him physically and mentally.
So what inspires me most about Doña Leonor? Her attitude toward life! While she accepts where she is and what she has been given, she doesn’t get stuck in it and she is able to move forward. For a person with only a few years of schooling, she reads and expands her world more than many college graduates I know, and is always learning and sharing new facts and skills. She intuitively knows that being with people and serving others gives her life purpose and keeps her active. When I ask her what motivates her to be the caretaker of all the elderly in her neighborhood, she answers: “I was robbed the privilege of caring for my own parents into old age, as they died so young. When I make a caldo for a neighbor, I imagine I am serving it to my own mother. I wouldn’t want my family members to be alone so why should I let it happen to anyone else?”
I aspire to live more like Doña Leonor. Well into her eighties, she exudes health and energy, eats mostly fresh, healthy food, but is not so rigid that she can’t enjoy a good tamale. She does, however, walk everywhere and makes a point to carry groceries, water and anything that allows her some weight-bearing exercise as she has the beginnings of osteoporosis and some arthritis. She shovels and sweeps and moves as much as possible. And she eats fruits and vegetables in season and grows her own herbs, chiles and some citrus. She also does what the doctor tells her to do, is willing to change her habits, loves to learn new things, surrounds herself with people and has a positive attitude toward life — all factors proven related to improving and maintaining your health.
So I end with some of Leonor’s favorite dichos, or sayings that sum up her disposition and ring through my brain daily, pleasantly reminding me of one of my heroes:
- Hay más tiempo que vida: Life is short; seize the moment. But don’t take things too seriously because there is a bigger picture.
- Más vale atole con risas, que chocolate con lágrimas: Atole with laughter is preferable to cocoa with tears. Atole is a hot drink made out of ground maize. It’s very tasty in spite of being made out of ingredients that are cheap and easily accessible (in Mexico). Cocoa would be more of a luxury. Better to live a humble life in which there is love than a fancy life in which there are lamentations.
- A nuevos tiempos, nuevas costumbres: In changing times, new habits. Adapt your ways to life’s ever changing circumstances. Travel light along the road of life, only clinging to customs and practices which have good reason for existence.
- El comer y el rascar, todo es empezar: In matters of eating and scratching, it´s all a question of getting started. Tasks can seem overwhelming but the key is just to dive in and begin.
- Panza llena; corazón contento: Speaks for itself. A full belly makes a happy heart. “But not to excess,” according to Doña Leonor!
