The first Jordanian pack lunch I got was also my first cry while eating here in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. It seemed that the food that I was tasting seemed so familiar. And my heart knew it well but my brain lacked to recognize it. Abruptly, my mouth opened and then I realized it was the same food I felt home. I cried silently as I munched my food.
So, I decided to stay on this tutorial for a year now even the pay was outrageous. The father of my tutee once told me that money was not important. The important is helping someone who needs help. This father was trying to convince me to stay.
So I stayed because I feel home and because of the food I got every time I have my tutorial. It is blessing in disguise. The kid is nice and I don’t have the reason to leave.Most importantly, the mother was so mother to me.Imagine, she has 7 children and she and her husband are trying to give them the best education they can have.
Imagine in that 7 children, there is a mother who packs lunch for a teacher, a stranger, whom she does not know her personality and she is accepted in that warmth and welcoming house. I am grateful that I have this family who never forgets my lunch box.