Shamira....my neighbor

My next door neighbor is an elderly, Assyrian woman...from Iran. Whenever I visit , she asks me in for tea. She brews it, strains it and pours it into clear tea cups. We sit at her table and chat. She has experienced much....the loss of her 42 year old daughter who died of bone cancer....the loss of her husband in the midst of raising children and managing an almond farm.....and the various hardships that come to us while living life on this earth. She has a deep, abiding faith.......and speaks of the Lord's goodness through her tears as she shares her losses.

I relish ...I savor....our around the table encounters. I leave her presence refreshed...and feeling somehow safe....just knowing she is near and is watching out for me. As she shares her wisdom, gained only from living long, I strain to secure her words and thoughts in my heart and mind.

Shamira still drives (well into her 80's).....and shops daily for fresh food in order to prepare her tantalizing, old world meals. A grape vine cascades across her yard, from which she gathers the Thompson leaves to make a meal. She prepares a mixture of rice, beef, leeks (also growing in her yard), garlic and dill which she carefully wraps in the leaves. Another meal she shared with me today, steaming and bubbling straight from the oven...was similar. She called it "Dulma"....an Assyrian , traditional dish. Zucchini and tomatoes and peppers were stuffed with a mixture of rice, parsley, beef, leeks.......and probably other things. The skins of the stuffed vegetables melted in my mouth...tender...not at all bitter or tough. Of course, I begged her to show me how to make this marvelous meal. She agreed that we would do that one day together.

She grows beautiful, fragrant roses and knits baby blankets.........all on the agenda for future teaching sessions.

Gratitude....that is what I feel. Grateful that God would place me in the house next to hers. My friend and mentor, Shamira.