Chapter 10 "Dinner and Dessert in the Desert"

The sisters sat at the dinner table, exhausted. They were broken and they knew no one could help, that only the Father’s grace was sufficient for the happenings of the day. It was late evening, after nine o’clock, and past supper time. Their hunger would not be so extreme had each of them eaten more then a power bar and crackers throughout the day. The sisters spent the morning and afternoon cleaning the aftermath of the sandstorm and waiting for the arrival of their new stove and refrigerator. They gave up hope as five o’clock came and passed and their stomachs gave into their impatience for electronics.

Red and May headed to the local market to purchase dinner. They locked McCain into their apartment, seeing as there was only one set of keys and still a glimmer of hope the appliances would be delivered. Red discovered a shortcut, full of lose dirt and shards of broken glass, behind their house. Covered from shoulder to toe in bright cotton, the sisters bared the 115 degree temperature in search of fuol, the traditional bean mush meal the people of this culture ate for lunch and dinner each day. Red whispered to the Father, asking him to help them find dinner. They roamed the streets but came up empty. Hungrier, dirtier, and a little more discouraged, they headed for home when they ran in Levic, the friend who lived above them. The sisters shared their disappointment about not finding the most culturally common food. She gave them a tour of the next few streets, showing them all the small stands where fuol could be found. Hotter, hungrier, and a little more discouraged, they arrived back to the apartment to inform McCaine they would have more crackers or power bars for dinner.

While out, they were informed that foul was made closer to 7pm. The three sisters, exhausted and famished, left the apartment in one last attempt to find dinner. They went back to the three different shops Levic had showed them. They returned to the apartment, frustrated and saddened by their lack of success in their final attempt of fuol finding. The mute pink wall and door to the apartment stood in front of them. Each sister gave her best attempt at opening the impassive door. It would not budge. Defeated yet again, now, they could not even manage to get into their apartment. They were forced to find Habibtie, the owner of their apartment.
The sisters had met Habibtie earlier that week. They admired her for being an educated woman in a culture that does not value women for anything, especially not for their minds. She was kind, giving the sisters sweats or soda each time they met with her. They were thankful her fidgeting with the door as it led to the door swinging open to the warm dusty air of their apartment.

Habibtie and the sisters entered the sitting room, demoralized and damp with sweat. May was annoyed there was no place to sit because everything was either still covered from the Hahboob’s breath or the workers belongings. She was frustrated and she tended to be grumpy when she did not get enough sleep and when she was hungry. She walked straight into the kitchen and began looking for something creative to make out of crackers and power bars. McCaine and Red spoke with Habibtie for a few more minutes. The sisters entered the kitchen and informed May that Habibtie was on her way to the market to get fuol for the sisters as a house warming gift. May, smiled politely, still annoyed, she went to find her ipod. She was at a breaking point.

She washed the dirt off the table Red and McCaine had pulled out from the piles of dirt. They sat around the table and listened to music and praised the Father. Sweat and tears ran down their faces, leaving clean vertical tracks barricaded by dirt, down their cheeks. They closed their eyes, each one sharing their doubts and frustrations with their King. They praised and thanked Him for the day, regardless of its events. At the sound of a knock on the door, they stopped praising the Father and opened the door to find Habibtie standing with arms full of food on the other side. Habibtie handed McCaine three plastic bags that contained, what looked like, tin take-out containers with cardboard lids. May did not even notice the containers were not the clear plastic bags that fuol was usually poured into, her heart still had not recovered from the day’s defeat. The sisters thanked Habibtie and asked her to join them for dinner. Habibtie’s smiled and said another time and left as quickly as she had entered.

The sisters opened the bags, to their surprise it was not fuol, but their favorite American foods. Freshly fried chicken, grilled chicken, french fries (unheard of in this city and country), and fried fish sit comfortably in their aluminum spaces. They began to cry as they each knew Habibtie’s gesture of kindness was a gift from the Father himself.
There hearts were deeply touched and minutely convicted. Was it not them who were there to love Habibtie and the others they encountered?

The Father had humbled them, as he always did. He humbled them with the gesture from a woman, little more then a stranger, who saw three girls discouraged after their first day on their own in their little apartment in a big city. As if her dinner gesture was not sweet enough, there was another tap on the door about an hour later. Rose, Habibtie’s house helper, stood on the other side. May answered the door and Rose handed her a thin, warm box and quickly left. May opened the box with the sisters. Its contents, baklava, still warm. Habetee had given them dinner and dessert. May did not try to hold back a second helping of tears. It was just like the Father, to send a dinner of faithfulness accompanied by a dessert of love.