The Romanian Roma
Hello everyone.
I was sitting in the downstairs break room taking a much needed break from standing up all morning. When this little lady walks in to get some ice and a diet coke and asked to sit next to me to eat a little something to eat.
She was a sweet lady, she looked older than her fifty-four years that she reveled. She was only about five feet high and a bit plump. She was all alone with her sister as the patient. It became obvious right away that she had a lot on her chest.
She said that her sister was the patient and was very needy and demanding, and she was wearing her out! She said that she was exhausted. Her sister asked for chicken to eat, so she went and spent twenty-eight dollars on fried chicken and she only eat one piece! She said that she got to the point to tel her sister not to be so needy!
She told me how her father growing up was a drunk and very abusive. Her mother was a seamstress and made very good money, so they were not poor, even though her father did not work. She said that her mother loved her father and forgiving his many flaws and that love is indeed blind!
Her brother was just like the father and did not want to work. It most definitely is a generational sin, though I did not tell her. She complained that her brother just wanted to sleep all day and that she was tired of supporting him.
I noticed that she was very dark skinned and didn't look Romanian. I asked if she was Roma, (The Roma are also called Gypsies). Then she admitted at she was indeed Roma. She then went and scolded me about that the term "Gypsy" was a bad term, as if I had called her that, which I did not. I reminded her that I knew that and that is why I called her a Roma.
I told her that while I served in the Air Force in Belgium that the town markets were all done by Roma's in trucks. They drove all over Europe in the trucks selling in all of the towns there. She was impressed that I knew so much about them!
We then walked outside in the back garden, she wanted to smoke a few cigarettes. She said that I could leave her if I needed to volunteer inside. I told her that I was volunteering right now talking with her. She laughed, and told me how she volunteered for the hospital for fifteen years doing the same thing that I am doing at the hospice.
She then told me that she owned a flower shop and it was very successful. I thought that she had some money because she described how she loved her house and how it just recently got flooded. It was a large four bedroom home that she put a lot of money into.
As we parted for the day we said our goodbyes and I gave her a nice hug and told her that I would be praying for her.
Have you ever meet a Roma? Can you tell me about it in the comments section?
Brother Roop
I was sitting in the downstairs break room taking a much needed break from standing up all morning. When this little lady walks in to get some ice and a diet coke and asked to sit next to me to eat a little something to eat.
She was a sweet lady, she looked older than her fifty-four years that she reveled. She was only about five feet high and a bit plump. She was all alone with her sister as the patient. It became obvious right away that she had a lot on her chest.
She said that her sister was the patient and was very needy and demanding, and she was wearing her out! She said that she was exhausted. Her sister asked for chicken to eat, so she went and spent twenty-eight dollars on fried chicken and she only eat one piece! She said that she got to the point to tel her sister not to be so needy!
She told me how her father growing up was a drunk and very abusive. Her mother was a seamstress and made very good money, so they were not poor, even though her father did not work. She said that her mother loved her father and forgiving his many flaws and that love is indeed blind!
Her brother was just like the father and did not want to work. It most definitely is a generational sin, though I did not tell her. She complained that her brother just wanted to sleep all day and that she was tired of supporting him.
I noticed that she was very dark skinned and didn't look Romanian. I asked if she was Roma, (The Roma are also called Gypsies). Then she admitted at she was indeed Roma. She then went and scolded me about that the term "Gypsy" was a bad term, as if I had called her that, which I did not. I reminded her that I knew that and that is why I called her a Roma.
I told her that while I served in the Air Force in Belgium that the town markets were all done by Roma's in trucks. They drove all over Europe in the trucks selling in all of the towns there. She was impressed that I knew so much about them!
We then walked outside in the back garden, she wanted to smoke a few cigarettes. She said that I could leave her if I needed to volunteer inside. I told her that I was volunteering right now talking with her. She laughed, and told me how she volunteered for the hospital for fifteen years doing the same thing that I am doing at the hospice.
She then told me that she owned a flower shop and it was very successful. I thought that she had some money because she described how she loved her house and how it just recently got flooded. It was a large four bedroom home that she put a lot of money into.
As we parted for the day we said our goodbyes and I gave her a nice hug and told her that I would be praying for her.
Have you ever meet a Roma? Can you tell me about it in the comments section?
Brother Roop
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