The Weaver Ant

An interesting story I read in Stuart M. Perkins’ blog (www.storyshucker.wordpress.com ) caught my heart. It’s about a simple hello that turned two strangers into friends in a few minutes. He told about Ms.Tourist and Ms. Business in a train.

When I read it, I couldn’t help but smile and giggling. My mother fits Miss Tourist’s shoe very well. Even beyond that, I think.

At the age of 81 today, I can’t calculate how many strangers she has said that simple hello and then had a good conversation with.

Around four years ago, she still knew almost every family lives at two blocks away from our block. She knew every kid around our block and the block next door and whose their parents are. She became well acquainted with the grannies of the kids. And most of all, I could have a new gossip around the block everyday at night. Well, it’s not all about bad talks , only she would retell what she has talked with a neighbor and what has been happening that day. I nicknamed her my PR minister ( haha ). While her sisters and my cousins tease her with a name “the weaver ant”, the most sociable little animal alive.

You cannot be near her for five minutes without her getting you in a short or long conversation. It doesn’t matter if you are a man or woman, young or old. I think my grandma forgot to teach her the term of ‘don’t talk to strangers ‘ when she was young ( lol ).

Till today I am still amazed how she could easily open a conversation with a stranger, as easily as she smiles. Unfortunately for me, I don’t inherit that kind of DNA from her because I am more a reserved and quiet person.

But today as she aged and some of her valuable memories  are leaving her , she becomes quieter and doesn’t like to socialize much as she does before. Still, when we happen to meet a person or a kid who is not from our neighborhood at the mall or market , they remember her and call out to her   “ Hi, grandma, how are you ? “

Often they stop and chitchat with her while I just stand beside her with my sweetest smile on my face as honestly I don’t recognize them. When they say goodbye to her, and I ask her who that person is, she just shrugs and says , “I don’t remember. I have met many people. It’s wonderful to know they remember me.”

Right, she has met too many people . She has made acquaintance with many strangers, even for a brief. I must say she has a rich life , preserved in her mind. Some memories are leaving her but some still stays. She still is the “Weaver Ant”.

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