The Lady From Haiti

We have a lady at my church, fairly new, who is fairly dark. Well, more than fairly. On occasion, she will have a young person with her and it’s never happened that we’ve been able to chat.

This Sunday, we did for a few minutes. She had a number of kids with her. “Three from Brooklyn and one from Toronto,” she said with an accent I couldn’t identify.

I mentioned this to an educated person in my circle of friends, including that she had once worn a shirt with the name of a local college.

“That place is hiring people from Haiti,” he said. “Brooklyn has a lot of people from Haiti, and so does Toronto. They have a lilting accent.”

That seems to make sense; when I get back from vacation, I’ll have to ask her. She is a friendly person who appears open to questions such as that. It might be interesting to hear about the children who visit her from New York and Ontario.

I’d also love to know what brought her here. The school where she, perhaps, works? Or is she an adult student, working days and going to college nights? I’ve been there, going to a community college around the corner from the radio station where I was working. I think they used to be called “junior colleges” in those days: the two-year places that got people like me launched.