The Power Of Kindness
I hate fish. No matter what kind of fish, I will avoid eating it at all costs. But that early afternoon in a tiny town named Zacapuato, Jalisco, Mexico, I learned to eat every crumb on my plate, even if it is fish. Our hosts were generous, heart-warming people who had offered my grandparents, my sister, and I a place to stay for about 5 days during our 3-week trip. My sister and I had the opportunity to take a trip down to Mexico with our grandparents to become fluent in Spanish. Over and over, these people showed us acts of kindness during our stay. These experiences have led me to believe that everyone is affected by the power of kindness, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. That scorching Tuesday afternoon was one I will never forget. Because of the temperatures, we walked around barefoot in the house on the cold floor. As I walked across the tile streaked with dirt to the kitchen table, I felt my stomach grumbling. I was looking forward to having a good meal after our 10 hour drive from Mexico City. Although it was still March, the sun was reminding us summer was coming fast. I sat down at the little wooden table, trying to get used to how small everything was compared to America. “Oh great,” I whispered to Elisa, “We are having fish for lunch.” The custom in that part of Mexico is to serve the guests first, while the hosts stand by and eat afterwards. So, it was only our family served at the table. We managed to finish most of the fish on our plate, which was served complete with bones, eyes, and the whole works. When our meal was finished, Elisa and I jumped up to help clear the table and do the dishes. As I turned the corner to go into the kitchen, I caught our hostess, a thin, worn-out, middle-aged woman, scraping every last crumb off of our plates into a small, homemade clay bowl. The realization that I had just eaten their food hit me like a ton of bricks. I was embarrassed and speechless. In what little Spanish I...
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