Day 147: 3 April 2026

 Short Story -- Tea

It never stopped surprising her that the people with the fewest worldly possessions tended to be the most generous ones.

She was sitting in a home, one the stiff wooden highback two seater that every home had here.

It was a small room. Big enough for a large bed on one end and then the seating area furniture — some chairs, a large coffee table, and a two seater chair — on the other end. There was a shelf on the back wall with a small altar and photos of family members who had died. The room was chilly. Everyone sitting there had coats on. Some had gloves and hats and scarves. Although there wasn’t snow, the end of January near the mountains got cold.

The wife (also a mother and a farmer) walked back in carrying a tray with hot tea on it and a stack of cups. She began to pour, offering the first cup to the young woman sitting on the two seater.

The young woman graciously accepted it, savoring the warmth that holding the cup brought to her hands. This was the fourth house she’d visited today and the fourth cup of tea.

Once the hostess had also sat down. The young woman started, with the help of a translator, ‘Tell me…’

She wasn’t sure how to end the question: about your life? about your farm? about your family? what you need?

The translator seemed to come up with his own ending to the question and the hostess-farmer-wife replied, glancing between the translator and the foreign woman sitting on her furniture.

‘She says,’ the translator began, ‘that she is very honoured to have you in her home…’

The young woman wondered if she had said that and if she had if it was true.

‘…she asks if you are enjoying the tea and what you think of our country.’

The young woman smiled, ‘The food is delicious!’ Then she wondered if she should say this in a home where there was clearly need.

The translator said something and the woman smiled in a friendly way.

The young woman added, ‘I am so honoured to be here. Thank you for inviting me into your home.’

The translator spoke again and the woman smiled again and then started speaking again.

‘She is asking about your family,’ the translator said. ‘Are you married? Do you have children? What your husband or family think about you being so far away.’

Of course. There are always questions about a husband and children. The young woman answered, ‘I am not married yet. It is hard for my parents — they miss me — for me to live so far away. But they also accept it. They see that I am happy. And you? Please, tell me about your family.’

The woman seemed to consider what the translator was relaying.

The woman smiled proudly as the translator communicated, ‘She says she has been married for ten years. They have four children. The oldest, a boy, is eight. He is great help on the farm. The youngest three are girls. Her four year old is very clever, and she worries how she can provide her with an education. She says that she moved away from her family to live with her husband. But his family is not too far away. They own the farm next door.’

There was talk about education. Is it accessible? Is there a difference between education for girls versus boys? Are there enough resources for the students?

They talked about how education fit into life on a farm. They talked about farming. They talked about the struggles that the past year had held for many farmers, including mad cow disease.

‘She says,’ the translator continued, ‘that they had two cows through the governments rent to own cow program. Mad cow disease took one. They had wisely separated the cows before the disease even struck. They are hoping the government will consider giving them a new cow to rent to own.’

The young woman nodded. Although from an agricultural area, she herself was not a farmer. And she could not make promises on behalf of the government. She was here to get to know the people and so that they felt heard.

Soon, the oldest son had been summoned to give a tour of the farm yard and show the young woman where the new cow — if one was offered — would live.

‘As you can see,’ the boy said via the translator proudly gesturing to the concrete enclosure with a woven wooden roof, ‘it is a very good pen.’ He gestured to the pigs next door, ‘They love their home and would make excellent neighbours.’

The young woman followed the translator out and back to their vehicle a short while later. There was one more farms yet to visit.