As you know, Linda and I emigrated to Portugal 18 months ago, seeking a handsome, mild and friendly setting where our modest funds would be adequate. Well, not only have we accomplished all that but we have been folded into the lives of several Portuguese and into the culture of our village. These people are extraordinary; in this troubled world, even in isolation, the Portuguese are a brilliant light.
My Portuguese friends frequently enquire about our health and well-being and every one of them has offered to shop for us so we can stay isolated and safe. And by friends, I include not only those with whom we travel, play, dine and discuss the world, but our language coach, our dog-sitter, our housekeeper, our favorite banker and now her sister too, nurses we’ve met through falling on our heads, pharmacists who have taken us under their wings and those who simply happen to live near us. Two days ago I got an email from the daughter of a neighbor with whom we share a garden wall saying that we should call her if we need anything at all. Then yesterday, after a month’s total confinement, she and her family escaped their apartment in Barcelos so their three small children could come frolic, race and hoot in their grandmother’s gardens. The woman who offered us kindness came to the wall and we talked at a cautious distance for a few minutes while the kids whipped around the yard like beings possessed, short but possessed. They had room to run and there was joy in the air. A bit later it occurred to me that there was no better home for a few of the windup toys I’d become enamored of and had collected over a few decades. I got out the sanitizer, sprayed the toys well, placed them on the wall and asked the matriarch of the household to pass them along to her grandchildren. It felt good to recall my own little-bitty days when a neighbor gave me the occasional toy just because she liked kids. And then I went about my day’s chores and pleasures.
This morning I discovered that one of the kids had kicked an old soccer ball over the wall for my dog, Trixie. A perfect gesture and from Trixie’s point of view the most elegant and tastiest football of her career. A Portuguese gesture…the next generation of kindness, manners and generosity. If it all works out, maybe next year I’ll help these kids build a potato cannon.
Wonderful, Rick! Surely there must be some BB guns in Portugal you could get for those kids? Or at the very least, you could make them a slingshot? Glad to hear you all are well and being taken in and taken care of. All the best from the Houston Hendons!
Stay well my friends!
The Woodside branch of the Hendon are doing well, grateful you all are ok, and itching to go anywhere in our camper. Love to all
Starting to sound like Portugal in Hendons which is good and as it was meant to be. Glad you both are well and Trixie is chewing leather.