That’s Just More People

That’s Just More People

Back about 30 years ago when our children were little we had a house guest for a year named Cecile. She was a beautiful 18-year-old young lady from Paris, France, who wanted to come to the U.S. and live with an American family for a year so she could learn English. The next year Cecile went to Mexico and lived with a family in the city of Jalapa in the state of Vera Cruz so she could learn Spanish.

At Christmas time Cecile and Rosa, the daughter of the Mexican family Cecile was living with, rode a bus for a couple of days and came to spend Christmas with us. Cecile never came back, but Rosa visited twice more. We haven’t heard from either of them in a couple of decades.

But what a wonderful experience it was for our four children to have these young ladies from a foreign land living in our home. Cecile picked up English very quickly, but Rosa had a more difficult time. The only thing more pitiful than Rosa’s English was my Spanish, but we managed.

On one of Rosa’s visits she brought all the ingredients (except the chicken, of course) and made us a dish she called Mole. It was chicken cooked in chocolate sauce and I guess it is the Crawfish Bisque of Jalapa. It was good, but weird. I mean, chocolate goes great on ice cream, but that was the only time I ever had it on chicken.

I remember thinking back then that it would not be long before our children would be the age of these young ladies who acted exactly like teenagers here in Louisiana and in each of the other three states where we had lived. One was from the other side of the ocean and Rosa came from the other side of the Gulf, but they were just typical teens.

My dad used to have a saying that he would apply whenever a group of folks would do something that seemed to set them apart either for good or bad reasons. He would say, “Yep, that’s just more people.” What I took him to mean was that there is not a world of difference between folks no matter where they come from, how much money they have, or what skin tone they were born with.

We all seem to have pretty much the same set of needs and wants. And when you stop to think about it, we’re actually rather predictable in most ways. All we need to do is ask ourselves what we would do in similar circumstances. Most times an honest answer to that question enables us to predict the future, because chances are your reaction or mine would be pretty similar to the way other folks act.

In the years since Rosa departed for the last time we have made many new friends. They are from India, Sweden, Colombia, Cuba, Hawaii, Lebanon, England, and Vietnam, among other places. Certainly there are cultural differences (our Indian friends always want to take off their shoes before coming into the house), but it is the consistency of their anxieties, their joys, their love of friends and family and their never-ending need to feel appreciated that shows us there really is very little difference between people from one age group or another or even from one country to another. If we will just treat each other with the respect we deserve (and frequently demand) as brothers and/or sisters with all the same shortcomings, tendencies and good qualities, we will be able to get through this life together.

That’s because, after it is all said and done, we’re just more people. And we will pause to wish you and your people a very Merry Christmas and all the best in 2008.

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