by Luke Brown
“My pleasure. Did you enjoy the dinner?”
“Yes, I enjoyed everything. I especially loved your sweet-tasting pumpkin pie and your to-die-for baked macaroni and cheese. I also loved your soft, succulent oxtail. I loved everything. Now I’m as stuffed as a turkey. Thank you for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mrs. Essie Brown had a lot to be thankful for. She was thankful to be alive and to experience her first Thanksgiving Day in the United States, and especially thankful to be able to share the holiday with her daughter and the rest of the family in New York City. She was also thankful to have previously experienced her first Independence Day on July 4 in the pleasantly hot and humid Big Apple.
Chapter 27
Mrs. Essie Brown thoroughly enjoyed her first Independence Day holiday in New York City, finding it a sight to behold. She couldn’t believe what was happening in front of her eyes and was truly awestruck by the miraculous, starlike formations of the fireworks and the vibrations from the powerful blasting of the hidden cannons. She gazed in awe at the blossoming of the flaming rosebuds. She gasped at the rainbow-colored rays of light spitting fire and creating patterns of all shapes and sizes in the sky. She was amazed at the geniuses at work and the inventiveness of mankind.
Essie was in the middle of hot, muggy, humid Central Park, with her Bible in hand. She was astonished by the breathtaking fireworks display, but even more astonished by the hundreds and hundreds of people who were gathered together in one common location. Mrs. Essie Brown had never been in any one place that had so many people all together, and she had a serious case of culture shock. She was overwhelmed, but very happy to be a part of this huge, worthy Independence Day celebration.
It dawned on her that she now shared the same goals and aspirations as every one of those sightseers. She shared the same appreciation of American history. She was, after all, an American now at heart, and in just a few years, she would be a true American by naturalization. The thought brought tears of joy to her eyes.
Although there were thousands of people in Central Park, Essie felt as if the fireworks display was being performed just for her. It was as if it was her first birthday, and she was being reborn in the United States. This was both her birthday party and her welcome party, and all the other people were just there to share in her celebration.
The fireworks represented everything that Mrs. Essie Brown believed in, including the right to freedom and the right to a better life. She now had a brand new life and a clean slate in the United States. The sky was the limit, as far as she was concerned.
That night, Mrs. Essie Brown saw more than fancy high-tech lights and fireworks. She saw what it meant to be an American. It meant the God-given right to be—to be left alone, to be loved, to be one’s true self, to be free, to be treated fairly, to be respected, to be strong, to be proud, and most of all, to be all that one could be.
When Mrs. Essie Brown looked around her and saw how the kids were having fun and how the grownups were gracefully celebrating a great country that stood up and fought for what it believed in, it brought tears to her eyes. Whenever Mrs. Essie Brown got very happy, she cried tears of joy.
Mrs. Essie Brown celebrated her first Christmas in the United States by attending the tree-lighting ceremony—a tradition that started back in 1933—at Rockefeller Center a few weeks before the holiday. Impressed by the large crowd that had turned out, she stood in the midst of downtown Manhattan with her Bible in her hand to witness the spectacular event.
Christmas had always been special for Mrs. Essie Brown, but now it meant even more. They say that when you’re in love, everything looks brighter and better. Mrs. Essie Brown was in love with life in New York City, and Christmas seemed better than it had ever been. As the tree was lit and the various groups sang touching Christmas carols, tears of joy again came to Mrs. Essie Brown’s eyes.
On December 31, Mrs. Essie Brown attended Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve and enjoyed it tremendously, although it was very cold. She didn’t stay long, but it was important to her to experience this great Big Apple tradition. Again, she was amazed by the turnout of the large crowd.
Mrs. Essie Brown was truly happy and proud to be living in New York City. After all, she was now in the city that boasted the distinctive landmark that greeted millions of immigrants from the late nineteenth century to today. The Statue of Liberty was every woman, like Mrs. Essie Brown.
Mrs. Essie Brown took the time to admire her new homeland. One day she went for a walk with Myrtle in downtown Manhattan. They strolled through the brightly illuminated hub of the Broadway Theater District, the major center of the world’s entertainment industry.
They stood at one of the world’s busiest pedestrian intersections and admired the famous Times Square that had been referred to as the mother of all crossroads and the ultimate crossroad of the world. Mrs. Essie Brown smiled as she thought about the time when she stood at the T-shaped crossroad in her tiny village of Cascade and wished to fly away to a larger and better place. She was thinking then of a big city, but never in a million years would she have thought that she would be here standing in the midst of Times Square.
Mrs. Essie Brown observed the Manhattan skyline with its many universally recognized skyscrapers and nodded her head. It’s true, she said to herself as her eyes caught the Empire State Building. New York City is truly home to some of the tallest buildings in the world.
She saw a large, colorful sign on the side of a building that read, Be bullish when you’re on Wall Street. Her mind drifted to a piece in the newspaper she had seen earlier that day about the New York Stock Exchange. She thought about the fact that God had spared her life and had given her the wonderful opportunity to roam the busy streets of Manhattan, the financial capital of the world and the home of the New York Stock Exchange. She wasn’t sure what that all meant, but she was sure that it had something to do with lots of money flowing in and out of the Big Apple.
Mrs. Essie Brown had no regrets. She had seen it all, and it was all worth it.
At first, Mrs. Essie Brown lived with Gena in Gena’s apartment in New York City. She enjoyed it, but even better, she eventually got her own apartment next door. When Gena did her regular supermarket shopping, just before she headed into her own apartment, she would often knock on her mother’s door first to drop off some groceries or just to stop in to make sure that she was doing well. For Mrs. Essie Brown, having an apartment next door to her daughter on the same floor in the same building was the most convenient situation a mother and daughter could’ve had.
This was all made possible by Gena, who was able to apply for an apartment for her mother because Mrs. Essie Brown was now a US citizen. Mrs. Essie Brown was doing so well that she was able to start helping all of her kids and grandkids who needed her help financially.
Mrs. Essie Brown still could be called a Christian fanatic. She attended the Ephesus Seventh-day Adventist Church, which was located relatively close to her. She learned the route to her church well. She knew which bus or train to take to get her there, and she attended every church service, both the weekend Sabbath service and the midweek Bible study. In addition to that, she still conducted her regular one-hour early morning devotions and regular one-hour evening devotions at home, with or without company.
One difference between her Jamaican and her American devotions was that she sang her hymns louder and with more confidence, although she was now more painfully off-key than ever. Just like a self-ordained minister, she also read more verses from her Bible. Her prayers were significantly longer as she prayed for all of her kids and grandkids. She deliberately prayed for each person individually, and sometimes she even included the president of the United States and people involved in the latest current event of the day.
Anyone who thought that Mrs. Essie Brown used to praise the Lord a little too much while living in Jamaica would have been shocked to know that she joyously and unapologetically praised God even more while liv
ing in the United States. Before, she praised God because she thanked Him for forgiving her for all her sins. Now, Mrs. Essie Brown praised God for blessing her so abundantly.
Mrs. Essie Brown felt that she had been blessed abundantly because she was living so comfortably. Along with getting the opportunity to praise God and go to church regularly, she was able to take better care of her health, since she now went to the medical clinic monthly and more often, if necessary.
Before this time, she had been too busy working and worrying about other people’s problems and concerns to take proper care of herself. Her philosophy used to be that she was old and could die at any time, so her kids’ and grandkids’ concerns took precedence.
Now, she still thought that her family’s concerns were primary, but she believed that she was really not that old, and she wanted to live a long and healthy life. In other words, Mrs. Essie Brown now realized that life was worth living and that she had a lot to live for in her remaining years.
Her health care became a serious part of her daily concerns. She never missed a doctor’s appointment and would be at least one or two hours early. She was aggressive and persistent when it came to anything that had to do with her health.
When she first arrived in New York, although only in her late fifties, she looked like an old woman who was frail and sickly and on her way to her grave. She was bent over and walked very slowly, using a walking cane.
Now, in her sixties, she looked twenty years younger. She walked briskly and exuded spunk and energy. Mrs. Essie Brown made it clear that she had a lot of reasons to live, and she felt for the first time in her life that she was really living. At age sixty-five, she even considered getting her driver’s license so she could purchase a car and drive herself to church. It was like Mrs. Essie Brown had come alive in New York City.
At Mrs. Essie Brown’s Ephesus SDA Church in Manhattan, she found a church buddy named Ms. Julia Gomez, who had been born in Honduras but grew up in Puerto Rico. She moved to the United States when she was in her early twenties. She had been a member of the church for more than thirty years. The two met one Sabbath after church services and introduced themselves.
“I’m Julia Gomez, but everyone calls me Tia.”
“I’m Mrs. Essie Brown. You can call me Sister Brown.”
“I noticed that we always walk to the train station together after church, but I jewsally take the number two to downtown, and I think that jer route is somewhere uptown because jew jewsally go to the uptown side.”
“I do live in the uptown direction, but only one stop on the train from here,” Mrs. Essie Brown replied with a smile.
“I see jew every Sabbath walking to the train. Haf jew ever noticed that we always go that way after church?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“I usually don’t pay any attention to the people around me when I’m walking. There’re just too many people on the streets of New York. If I paid attention to them, I’d trip and fall, and I don’t want that to happen to me again. It happened once before when I was crossing the driveway of a Catholic church uptown.”
“I wouldn’t like that to happen to jew either, Sister,” Tia said with genuine concern for Mrs. Essie Brown. “Anyway, let’s wolk and tolk as we head to the train station, jes?” Tia’s Latin accent became stronger as she got more comfortable with Mrs. Essie Brown.
“Yes, okay. Let’s walk,” Mrs. Essie Brown said, and the two elderly Christian ladies started toward the subway. Tia was short with a medium frame. She was not too fat, but she was definitely not skinny. She had a typically pretty Puerto Rican look, with a light complexion and long black hair. She had a Spanish accent, but she spoke very clearly.
As they walked together, Mrs. Essie Brown seemed almost twice as tall as Tia because she loved to wear her high-heeled shoes when she went to church. Today, she was dressed very attractively in an off-white two-piece suit, with a jacket and skirt, and white high-heeled, closed-toe shoes. She carried a small black purse in her hand. Mrs. Essie Brown also wore a simple but sophisticated white hat, with her hair tucked neatly inside it. She and Tia walked slowly as they got to know each other.
“Sister Brown, how long haf jew been in New Jork City?” Tia asked as they walked along the busy sidewalk toward the 125th Street train station.
“I’ve been here for more than five or six years now. I don’t know exactly how long. My sister, this head of mine isn’t the same as it used to be. I can’t remember anything.”
“That’s all right, Sister Brown. We’re at that age where nothing is the same anymore. Sometimes I don’t even remember my address and phone number. It takes me a while to collect myself and think real hard before it comes to me. Nothing comes easy at this stage.”
“We’re old birds. We have to get used to it. How long have you been in New York, Sister Tia?”
“I’ve been here for more than thirty jears. I jews to live in the Bronx by East Tremont Avenue. That area was getting too bad for me, so I moved to Upper Manhattan, an area they call Spanish Harlem.”
“I’ve heard about Spanish Harlem. How is it living there?”
“It’s okay,” Tia said. “It’s much better than East Tremont Avenue. I live in one of the newer buildings. It’s a very nice place, clean and semigated. Jew should join me for lunch one of these days.”
“Oh, I’d love that, Sister Tia.”
“I live alone now that my three kids are grown and are living in different places.”
“What happened to your husband?”
“I don’t haf one anymore, Sister. We’ve been divorced for more than fifteen jears. I caught him in bed with my best friend. I never talked to him ever again. I was so hurt that I never got around to dating again, either. Sometimes I wished that I had a man in my life to help me when things got rough, but I’ve passed those days now. I just serve my God. He makes me happy. God’s the man in my life now.”
“My husband passed away years ago,” Essie said, “but I live with my daughter Myrtle. I share an apartment with her and her son, Dean. I also have six grandkids living with us. It’s a lucky thing that we have such a large apartment to comfortably accommodate everyone. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love living with my grandkids. They make me feel alive.”
“How do jew like living in this city, Sister Brown?”
“Oh, I love it. I’m a bigcity gal at heart. I love everything. I love the people. I love the food. I love the senior citizens’ services everywhere. I love my church. I sometimes don’t like the long walk to the subway and back, but I love everything else. I like how everything is close by; for example, the supermarkets and shops are just across the street. God has blessed me with lovely kids and a good life.”
“Praise the Lord, Sister! Praise the Lord! I love it, too. I love everything. I can’t complain. Sometimes the weather gets too cold, but I just make sure I dress warm before I come outside.”
“Me, too.”
“How are jer kids, Sister Brown?”
“God has blessed me with eight kids. They’re doing very well. I have my beloved daughter Gena, who I call my miracle baby. She was the one who filed for me so that my family and I could leave Jamaica to live here. I’m so proud of her. She lives next door to me, and she has her own hairdressing parlor, which is doing very well.
“I also have a son who is a doctor. He lives in Florida. I go and visit him sometimes. He pays my fare anytime I want to travel anywhere, and he sends me money from time to time. All of my kids stay in touch with me. Thank God. I have a son in Los Angeles doing well and going to church. I have a daughter in Washington who has her own nursing home, and I have a son and a daughter in Jamaica. My son has a very big house there. It’s a long story about his house, and someday, we’ll sit down and talk about that. He also has his own leather craft business that’s doing very well. My daughter in Jamaica has her own beauty parlor business.” Mrs. Essie Brown raised her hands high in the air. “Thank you, God! You’ve blessed me and
all my kids. Sister Tia, it wasn’t easy, as it was me alone, but thank God He was by my side. He saw me through it all.”
“Praise God, Sister Brown. God is good, and He is mighty. I know because I also had to call upon Him many times to help me. I was a single mother for three kids. I got absolutely no help from their father, who is a big-time journalist now living in England. But now they’re doing very well.”
“Where are you from, Sister Tia?”
“I was born in a place called Tegucigalpa in Honduras. When I was five jears old, my parents emigrated to Puerto Rico because of a business opportunity. I grew up in Puerto Rico and finished my schooling there. I worked in a major hotel as a manager for many jears before I came to live in New Jork for a better income so I could take better care of my kids. I did some home-care nursing assistance until I retired. Now that my kids are grown, I’m just taking it easy and serving my Lord.”
“Sister, they say ‘many rivers to cross,’ but we found our way over. We are both women of substance. Don’t ever forget that. What we did, just so that our kids could have a better life, no one can ever imagine.”
“Jes! Es verdad, that is true, my sister. That is so true.”
“Have you ever been back to Honduras?”
“Jes, I’ve been back a few times. However, when I go, I don’t jewsally stay very long. I jews to visit my grandparents there, but they haf both passed away, so I hafn’t been back since.”
“Do you love Jamaican food, Sister Tia?”
“Jes! I love the jerk chicken, and I like how they do the oxtail, and I love the ackee and saltfish.”
“I can make you some Jamaican recipes one of these days. Did you know that I was a personal chef for some very high-profile celebrities, including Roger Moore from the James Bond movies? He stayed at my private cottage resort twice in Jamaica, and he loved my cooking.”
“Really? Jew must be a great cook, Sister Brown. I tell jew what. We will trade dinner treats. One day, jew could cook jer Jamaican food for me, and then I’ll cook a Honduran Latino special that my grandmother taught me for jew.”
