When I moved into my building 5-1/2 years ago, one of the first people I met was Teresa E. She is a tiny lady, no more than 5 feet tall. 100 lbs. soaking wet, a very sweet little lady of Greek ancestry.
She always has a smile, and is friendly to everyone. She often bakes Greek pastries, covered in honey. Of course I can't remember the name. She passes them out to any and all. At Christmas she passes out cards to all 220 or so residents, even those she doesn't know. For some, it is the only thing they will receive for Christmas.
Teresa is now 87 and has lived here 21 years, moving in shortly after her husband died. About 10 years ago, a couple moved into the building, Alan and Lois. Alan was white, Lois black. There have always been a few African Americans in the building, but an interracial couple was something new and "strange". A lot of discussion ensued, and one day a group of residents, maybe 10 or 12 of them, were discussing the "problem". Teresa was among them. After much back and forth, little Teresa stood up and said, paraphrased, "What's wrong with you people? We should treat them like any body else. We shouldn't even be talking about this."
Several people told me about this incident, and they tell me the room went silent, there were a lot of sheepish looks, and all agreed.
Last week, I learned that Teresa had lung cancer. She refuses to go through any long, unpleasant and painful treatment. She asked only that she be given pain relief. She is now bedridden, cared for by her daughters, a caregiver, and her neighbors.
God bless her and we will miss her when she leaves us.
