Hurricane Sandy -- Good Things Happen to Good People

Called my Aunt Joyce last night.  She lives on the 14th floor of Confucius Plaza and they, like all New Yorkers below 28th street have no electricity.

Her only concern is water to flush the toilet, of all things.  Has enough food and candles.  My cousin was nice enough to climb all 14 flights to bring her water and peanut butter after work yesterday.  She loves to gloat, "I told him not to come, I don't need anything", but of course was so happy that he came.  (Thank you Geoffrey).

Morning of the storm I urged her not to go to church.  She said if the weather wasn't that bad, she would go.  Of course she went.  Only problem was there were only two people there, so what did she do?  She called her God-Child to come down to mass.  Gee, I wouldn't be happy if someone got me out of bed to come down to read the whatever........But she did.

Many of her God-children surprised her and came to help her in the storm.  Some old friends from growing up days phoned (Dai Geen and Dorrie) to see if she needed anything but of course she told them not to come.  My sister calls them the "village people"  the gow gong yun.  Kids of old neighbors who came to NY at the same time from Canton. 

That night, to her surprise someone rang her doorbell.  I can just imagine her barking at them, "who is it?  wait a minute".  She runs to change in the dark and can't see a thing.  whoever this person is waits for what is probably an eternity and she unchains the door to see it is "Dai Geen".  Big Geen, son of someone from the old Gow Gong village.  The poor man walked up 14 flights in the dark with 3 big bottles of water (to flush her silly toilet), ginger ale and candles.  She said she didn't want the candles but couldn't send the man back down 14 flights holding them.  How nice.  Made her feel apperciated--like a million bucks.

Some ladies she befriended from the laundry room also brought her water and banana's and she got several calls from other God-Children.  See--New Yorkers are nice.  Even the village people remember you.  My dear son wondered why the "YMCA village people" visited her in the storm...................No, not those village people, the real village people.