Lesson in humility

(Author’s note: This is a revival, inspired by a Pinay maid I met in New York.)

Alma was a young, attractive housemaid, employed by my friend Lily, a Filipino widow in her 40s. I visited Lily at her luxurious pad on East 47th St.

LILY: Let’s talk later. I have to go. (She calls Alma, who appears instantly from the kitchen.) I will be out for 30 minutes. Alma, please take care of our guest, Bernie.

ALMA: (As soon as Lily was gone) I can’t stand it anymore. She treats me like a dog. I’m her personal slave. I wish I had stayed back home, but I have to support my family. I am a single mother.

ME: Go find another job. This is New York. There are many jobs.

ALMA: (She begins to sob) She has my passport. Besides, I am scared, and she knows it. I go out of the house only to buy groceries. Please help me.

My instinct told me to back off. If I helped her, I would be betraying a friend. But I was moved by her predicament.

ME: I don’t know how to help you. If you escape, she will simply tell Immigration.

Alma blurted out her story in a microsecond before Lily got back. Her mother had been a maid for Lily’s parents for 40 years. Lily’s husband got Alma’s mother pregnant, and thus Alma was born. She was a child maid for 18 years until Lily moved to New York when her husband died. She dragged Alma along as her “adopted daughter” so she could have a maid for a tenth of the salary of a New York part-time cleaning lady.

A year passed. I ran into Alma at a bank in Times Square. She was wearing a dazzling white mink fur and pushing a baby carriage.

ME: Wow! What happened to you? Let me guess. This is your daughter.

ALMA: Yes. Isn’t she pretty? Lily had a suitor, Sean, a handsome Irish fellow, an engineer.

ME: Let me guess. You stole him from Lily.

ALMA: Will you shut up and listen?

ME: My, you’ve learned to be a feisty New Yorker, no longer the meek maid. Emancipated from slavery.

ALMA: I was young and pretty, and he could not stand Lily treating me like a slave. One day, Lily was out. Sean came. She would be back in an hour. I knew Sean had an eye for me.

ME: You flirted with him.

ALMA: He got me pregnant before Lily returned. Sweet vengeance against my slave master.

ME: You must be good.

ALMA: Pinay instinct and Irish libido.

ME: If you got him just for revenge or sex, it won’t work.

ALMA: But we learned to love each other. I have forgiven Lily. So what if I got pregnant instantly? He was easy to love because he was so kind. I was easy to love because I pampered him. I gave what no Irish woman could give — deep, passionate Pinay love.

ME: There are no rules in love. You find love in strange places, even in jungles like New York.

Alma broke all the rules, yet her marriage came out better than some marriages where the couple followed all the “rules.” Years passed. I had a second mis-encounter. Lily was looking haggard and old.

LILY: Hey, I know you. Did you teach Alma how to get away from me?

ME: (Hiding a small lie) Of course not. That was your own doing.

LILY: (Buckling down) Yes, I know. I had a nervous breakdown, almost lost my job. But I recovered.

ME: So, how did you manage?

LILY: I prayed every day, and Jesus rescued me. I met this Irish guy.

ME: Another one.

LILY: Sean’s brother.

ME: Oops.

LILY: I have a happy marriage. Two lovely kids.

ME: The Lord sent you a storm so you would seek His shelter. He turned you from a vicious slave master into a loving wife.

LILY: A lesson in humility. Do you know Alma is richer than me now? I don’t care. We see each other often. We’re good friends.

ME: There are no rules in love.

That echoed in my mind for many years.

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