Miss Rosa

Back in my hometown, I have this neighbor named Miss Rosa. Well actually, that’s not true. Miss Rosa is my neighbor, but Miss Rosa is not really her name. Miss Rosa’s son told me once that he thinks her name is Maeying, but before I or my family was privy to this information we had already started referring to her as Miss Rosa. Looking back, I don’t even know how we came up with that name, but somehow we did and it stuck. It just fits her somehow, and I mean that in the most endearing way possible. I think Rosa is a rather sweet name, but maybe that’s because I associate the name Rosa with roses. Come to think of it, Miss Rosa gardens a lot, which subconsciously may have influenced the choosing of our new neighbor's new name. Sweet Miss Rosa, she has no clue that according to us, that is her name.

When I really think about it, it is pathetic that this woman has been our catty-corner neighbor for 12 years and we still do not know her real name. It is not that we don’t care. Well, I don’t know if I can honestly say that for the rest of the family, but I for one do care. With the realization of caring comes this confession: I am a bit ashamed that I don’t know something as important as my neighbor’s name.

I know you’re all dying to know how we could possibly not know our neighbors name, and I believe there are two main reasons for our ignorance. The first of these is that Miss Rosa’s English is pretty terrible. I do not say that to be harsh or cruel, because I know she tries. She never lets her language barrier or thick accent stand in the way of trying to chat. She’s actually very friendly, more friendly in fact than most people on my street. But in the 14 years of being co-residents of Festival Drive, the only person I know who can understand her well enough to hold a conversation of some significance is Rachel. I joke that they have that Asian connection, even though Rachel is only ¼ Chinese. The second reason is that perhaps we chose to be big dummies. What I mean by this is that we, like most Americans, didn’t take the time to understand.

I have aspirations of living overseas one day, preferably in western Europe because I’m fascinated with most (but definitely not all) European people… but we’ll see where the Lord takes me. It’s much more than the superficial cool factor that takes my heart there. Seeing nations of melancholy people who have the gospel at their fingertips but have no idea where to find Truth makes my heart break. My job with Campus Crusade for Christ took me to Italy for nine days last spring, and it was during those nine days that I became convinced I could totally kick it in Europe. Of course there is always the risk of wasting away during the first couple months due to the fact that I’m not banking on high language proficiency, and you need to speak the language to order food, but hey, I’ll take that risk. Italy, of course, would be the exception to this rule, because after a week there I became quite the expert in ordering gelato and Coke on tap (the best Coke always comes from a fountain) and if forced to return for an extended period of time I may end up becoming a little too plump for my pleasing. All joking aside, to someone who wants to live overseas someday, this whole conundrum serves as a huge wake-up call. I feel so Carrie Bradshaw as I write this, but the question I find myself asking is: Will I someday be someone else’s Miss Rosa?

Miss Rosa’s daughter once told me that their dog, a brown toy poodle, was named "Twigs". But Miss Rosa calls "Twigs" Brownie, so to us "Twigs" is Brownie. Miss Rosa and Brownie walk up and down the street every night at dusk, whether for exercise or leisure I’m not sure. I don’t know much else about my neighbor, other than that she has beautiful gardens in her backyard that border on being a jungle, that she goes to church every Sunday, that she drives her Saturn up the street entirely too fast, and that every time someone passes Miss Rosa and her Brownie by, they will be met with a friendly greeting and a sincere smile. In many ways, I admire this woman I don’t know much about.

I’m praying for a greater language proficiency, but I also pray that wherever I may live, I will be have the courage to step outside myself to be someone else’s Miss Rosa.