Farewells, Cookie, and Old Macdonald

I went to my normal hangout after a sad night at the youth program. One of our longest standing staff will be leaving in three weeks (she has been there for seven years), and one of the kids, Christopher, lost his best friend to a shot from a gang. I sat with him for a while, not saying much, just asking an occasional question, and letting him share. I listened to Lisa sharing her heart with the kids, a kind of matriarchal farewell blessing to them, encouraging them that she loved them all dearly and was simply seeking to follow God's will for her life. I left the room without saying goodbye to that many people and on the way to my spot outside of Pinkberry I noticed an older lady in front of me, wearing scraggly clothing and a blanket over her back which was slightly dragging, and I wondered if there was anything else she was dragging behind her in her life. I thought she was mumbling to herself, so I cautiously greeted her, only to be surprised at the lucidity of her response. She gave me a big smile and asked me if I had any cigarettes. My negative response didn't end our conversation, and I gratefully chatted with her about where I was from and where I lived as we walked over to Little Tokyo. As we passed by a bench outside of a frozen yogurt shop, she asked me to sit down and wait for her while she got a cigarette. She came back not only with a cigarette but with a little plastic tray full of slightly melted mochi, a delicious mixture of icecream balls wrapped in a yummy gummy bread. I ended eating four of the six because she had just had a big meal. Apparently, she was able to live completely off of unfinished meals of patrons of restaurants in the area. She was born in South Korea originally, and married a U.S. soldier. She told me the marriage didn't last for long--only a couple of years, leaving her out on the streets, unable to have much contact with her family in Korea. Although she misses them, she also mentioned to me that it is good for her to be here, where there is plenty of food to eat. I am in complete agreement. After she left with kind words, I went back to a bench to play my guitar for a while, and a man came up to me with a grin and an "Eyi eyi oh" in greeting, and proceeded to share a joke with me (I can't remember what it was, but it had a slightly off color ending). As we chatted a bit, he complemented me on my upbringing--I must have good parents (which I do). I offered him a couple bucks (he hadn't asked anything of me) and he shared another joke, interspersed with occasional Eyi eyi oh's, so I asked him if he was Old Macdonald, and yes apparently that is what some people call him.