towns always make me think of this one: ‘There but for the grace of God go I.’”
He answered defiantly: “It’s not so bad being us, you know.”
“No. Of course not.”
“There are a lot of good people here.”
“There are. Let’s do some good for one of them right now, shall we? Let’s change one young woman’s life for the better.” She looked at the audience. “What do you say?”
Lena held up the APPLAUSE/APLAUSOS sign. The Mangrove side of the crowd applauded obediently.
Mickie said, “She’s an RDS cook at a large estate in Palm Beach County, and I have had the pleasure of tasting her delicious cooking firsthand. Please welcome Isabella. Isabella!”
Lena helped a young woman climb up from the crowd and stand next to Mickie. The woman looked to be about twenty-five years old. She stared hard at her own feet as Mickie continued: “I happen to know that she’s a big fan of the Manor House Cookbook series, those collections of recipes from the great manor houses of England. What are some of your favorite recipes, Isabella?”
Mickie thrust the microphone under the woman’s chin, forcing her to look up. She was attractive, with long features and a reddish derma, as if she were part Indian. She muttered, “Beef Wellington. Chicken cordon bleu.”
“Yum. Well, the people at SatPub have heard about your cooking, and they liked what they heard. They want you to have the complete series of Manor House Cookbooks, hardbound, and here they are.”
Mr. Patterson walked out, all smiles, carrying a wooden display case stocked with books. Isabella looked very excited to see it.
Mickie asked, “What do you think of that, Isabella?”
The woman could only utter, “Thank you.
Gracias.
”
Mickie continued, “But, Isabella, that’s not the real reason I asked you up here today. Do you remember what you told me in the kitchen that night when I came in to pay my compliments to the chef?”
Isabella looked confused.
“Do you remember what you said?”
“No. Sorry. I am sorry.”
“When I asked you what you planned to do after you retired from RDS?”
“Oh. Oh yes!”
“You said your goal was to become a professional dietitian; to work for Social Services or for the school board, helping people to be healthier by eating better.”
“Yes.”
Lena held up her sign again; the audience applauded enthusiastically.
“That career requires a four-year college degree, doesn’t it, Isabella?”
“Yes.”
“What must you study to get that degree?”
“Anatomy. Nutrition. A lot of science. A lot of math.”
“The tough stuff, right?”
“Yes.”
“No Water Skiing 101 for you.”
“No.”
“And you’ve been saving your RDS money to help you pursue this goal.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, Isabella. What kind of grades did you get in high school? And don’t fib to me, because Lena has already looked them up.”
The embarrassed woman answered reluctantly, “I got all A’s.”
“Yes, you did.”
The audience applauded again, on its own.
Mickie pressed her: “And what about your CCs? Your College Comprehensives?”
Isabella answered, “All tens.”
“That’s ten out of a possible ten, ladies and gentlemen!”
More applause.
“Well, I am authorized to tell you that, because of your great work and your dedication, you will be receiving a full scholarship to Nova Southeastern University from the Martin County Realtors Association.”
Isabella’s hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears. Mr. Patterson handed her a rolled-up piece of paper with a gold seal on it as the Mangrove side of the audience applauded and cheered for several seconds.
When the clamor died down, Mickie gave the “cut” sign to Kurt, and Lena escorted Isabella from the stage.
As Mickie and her crew prepared for the next segment, Patience and I decided to try to mingle with the Mangrove kids. I used the Spanish I’d learned from Victoria, smiling at friendly-looking kids and
He answered defiantly: “It’s not so bad being us, you know.”
“No. Of course not.”
“There are a lot of good people here.”
“There are. Let’s do some good for one of them right now, shall we? Let’s change one young woman’s life for the better.” She looked at the audience. “What do you say?”
Lena held up the APPLAUSE/APLAUSOS sign. The Mangrove side of the crowd applauded obediently.
Mickie said, “She’s an RDS cook at a large estate in Palm Beach County, and I have had the pleasure of tasting her delicious cooking firsthand. Please welcome Isabella. Isabella!”
Lena helped a young woman climb up from the crowd and stand next to Mickie. The woman looked to be about twenty-five years old. She stared hard at her own feet as Mickie continued: “I happen to know that she’s a big fan of the Manor House Cookbook series, those collections of recipes from the great manor houses of England. What are some of your favorite recipes, Isabella?”
Mickie thrust the microphone under the woman’s chin, forcing her to look up. She was attractive, with long features and a reddish derma, as if she were part Indian. She muttered, “Beef Wellington. Chicken cordon bleu.”
“Yum. Well, the people at SatPub have heard about your cooking, and they liked what they heard. They want you to have the complete series of Manor House Cookbooks, hardbound, and here they are.”
Mr. Patterson walked out, all smiles, carrying a wooden display case stocked with books. Isabella looked very excited to see it.
Mickie asked, “What do you think of that, Isabella?”
The woman could only utter, “Thank you.
Gracias.
”
Mickie continued, “But, Isabella, that’s not the real reason I asked you up here today. Do you remember what you told me in the kitchen that night when I came in to pay my compliments to the chef?”
Isabella looked confused.
“Do you remember what you said?”
“No. Sorry. I am sorry.”
“When I asked you what you planned to do after you retired from RDS?”
“Oh. Oh yes!”
“You said your goal was to become a professional dietitian; to work for Social Services or for the school board, helping people to be healthier by eating better.”
“Yes.”
Lena held up her sign again; the audience applauded enthusiastically.
“That career requires a four-year college degree, doesn’t it, Isabella?”
“Yes.”
“What must you study to get that degree?”
“Anatomy. Nutrition. A lot of science. A lot of math.”
“The tough stuff, right?”
“Yes.”
“No Water Skiing 101 for you.”
“No.”
“And you’ve been saving your RDS money to help you pursue this goal.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, Isabella. What kind of grades did you get in high school? And don’t fib to me, because Lena has already looked them up.”
The embarrassed woman answered reluctantly, “I got all A’s.”
“Yes, you did.”
The audience applauded again, on its own.
Mickie pressed her: “And what about your CCs? Your College Comprehensives?”
Isabella answered, “All tens.”
“That’s ten out of a possible ten, ladies and gentlemen!”
More applause.
“Well, I am authorized to tell you that, because of your great work and your dedication, you will be receiving a full scholarship to Nova Southeastern University from the Martin County Realtors Association.”
Isabella’s hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears. Mr. Patterson handed her a rolled-up piece of paper with a gold seal on it as the Mangrove side of the audience applauded and cheered for several seconds.
When the clamor died down, Mickie gave the “cut” sign to Kurt, and Lena escorted Isabella from the stage.
As Mickie and her crew prepared for the next segment, Patience and I decided to try to mingle with the Mangrove kids. I used the Spanish I’d learned from Victoria, smiling at friendly-looking kids and
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