Jasmine

 A little girl has come into my life quite unexpectedly. Her name is Jasmine. She has big, dark eyes, just like her Disney namesake.  She’s very fond of pigs, sunflowers, and fairies.

I met Jasmine a couple of months ago when her grandparents came to my front door asking if they could do some yard work for me. They had come once before, and I gave them $5 and told them to come back that weekend when I had more time. They did. This time, I listened to their story – how they’d lost their home and most of their belongings and needed $45 to stay in their hotel room.

Jasmine sat on top of her coat in my driveway while I chatted with her family about their situation. I had no reason not to believe them, but it was Jasmine who changed everything. I couldn’t let her go hungry or sleep on the streets. I reminded myself that I would be provided for no matter what, and I emptied my wallet to pay them to trim the shrubs in my yard and clear a flower bed. Jasmine must have felt left out, because before long, I felt a tug at my sleeve.

“Hi,” she said. “Want to see my pig?”

I responded that I love pigs and would like nothing more than to see hers, which seemed to make her very happy.  She grinned, showing off dark metal caps on her front teeth, and scampered off to get her stuffed pig out of her backpack.  After a brief introduction, she drew me a picture of the pig. That picture wasn’t any good, so she crumpled it up and drew another.  And another after that. Her grandma came by and suggested that she draw me a pig. Jasmine was pleased to oblige. Twice. 

Minutes later, she was building a castle out of the carefully-placed river rocks that line my flower beds. I was introduced to her fairy, Tinker Bell, who had lost all of her clothes and was therefore grounded from leaving the backpack. I played along with her games until she produced a long piece of dirt-caked rope out of nowhere and announced her intention to tie me up.  She would not be dissuaded – that is, until I asked her to draw me another pig. She had books, too. When I asked if she could read, she said that she had been learning, but that she couldn’t see well enough anymore.

When the sun was setting, and the family was nearly done working for the day, I found myself driving Jasmine and her grandma to Sunflower Market. We picked up a sack of potatoes, fresh chicken, butter and, as a special treat, sour cream.  Jasmine held my hand the whole time. At the check-out, I handed the cashier my Sunflower gift card and asked her to check the balance on it. The answer? Exactly enough for a sack of potatoes, chicken breasts, butter and sour cream.

Watching the looks on the faces of this family as they looked forward to a hot, filling meal made me want to cry. But even then, I was a little bit relieved when my neighbor offered to drive them back to their hotel. Part of me wanted to get back to my busy night of folding laundry and staring at my Facebook page. I wasn’t ready to invest quite yet.

I saw them a few times after that, usually just in passing. I thought about them on Thanksgiving, but I didn’t have any way to get in contact with them.  After several weeks, I’d begun to worry about them, but I hoped that they’d found steadier work and moved on.

Tonight, Jessica and I set out to do our short but surprisingly painful Bun & Thigh Pilates video.  We only tortured one cheek, however. Our doorbell rang halfway through the workout.  I knew who it was, and I was almost surprised to feel a twinge of excitement. It was just the grandparents tonight, as Jasmine and her mother were sick. We took the opportunity to rid our cupboards of all the Mac n’ Cheese, cereals, and canned soups we weren’t going to eat before we gave them a ride back to their hotel room. Once there, we stayed for about an hour. We watched cartoons, shared the hot chili that the Salvation Army food truck brought by, and tried not to inhale whatever the family is sick with.

We were getting into Jess’s car to return home when Jasmine’s grandpa came outside one more time. He told us that he’d hoped to make Christmas special for Jasmine that year – that she would at least have a tree. He could not provide any of it, and you could see in his eyes how much it hurt him. “She needs a Christmas,” he said. “I never went without a Christmas.” His idea, which he asked us only to consider, is to have a Christmas celebration at our house sometime before Christmas. They would use their food stamps to provide a turkey or ham, and we’d all gather around our little Christmas tree.

I'm beginning to make plans to do a whole lot more than that.

Each year, I warm up to Christmas just a little bit more than the year before. About a month ago, I told Jess that I want to go all out and “do Christmas” this year. At the time, I was just talking about filling stockings and stringing some lights. Maybe a batch or two of gingersnaps.  I thought I had only my own seasonal apathy to overcome. It seems God had a better idea.