Martha (pronounced Martá) is our domestic saint, the word maid is muy fea. Today while I was running errands she was here with Isabel and Roarke, this was the pleasant surprise left for me.
Tonight I went to find my pajama bottoms. For several weeks my shelf in the closet that holds my pajamas, t-shirts and the like has been a disaster, thanks to three kids that like to hide in closets. I´ve been meaning to get to this, although really I was hoping to just wear it all, wash it then fold it. Doesn´t matter, it was a disaster last night and tonight when I opened the closet door, everything was perfectly folded in neat little stacks. Martha, you deserve a better employer than this slacker mama but I know Martha´s secret because she told my friend Stephanie. Martha worries about me when I am alone with three kids, in the country where it´s dark. She helps me up when I fall down on slippery floors, we cried together one day because of a bad situation and she loves my children and they love Martha. You are so much more than the woman that works for me Martha and though I can´t tell you all that en Español, I believe you know that because of your acts of kindess toward me. Gracias para todos, Martha.
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3 comments:
give her a hug from me, if she remembers me from my long ago visit and tell her thanks for being at the corner for you.
i will, though i´m sure i´ll bungle it up!
hmmm. visit. sounds nice.
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