An Ocean Breeze || Noah and Emma
@peaceific
Within two months, Mozambique had been hit with two cyclones. And while Emma had never been to East Africa, she figured she had a bucket list for a reason and it was always worth the trip if she could do something good for someone else.
Two weeks into her trip, she’d at least become comfortable enough with Portuguese that she no longer needed her dictionary. And she managed to stumble through some books that she found without too many mistakes. Though, on occasion, if the patient she was reading to was awake, she would ask what a word meant and the proper way to pronounce it. She carried water. Cleaned up debris. She donated blood and money. Anything she could do to help, she could. And in the evenings, Emma walked to the coast, overwhelmed by the destruction these waters had created, and in love with the peace and tranquility it offered now.
While working, she’d of course crossed paths with other regular volunteers. She made a habit of greeting them with a smile, offering a bottle of water or a friendly word of encouragement.
Late one afternoon, she’d been reading to the children that always met with her for a story time. To her, it offered a sense of normalcy, imagination, and hope for the future. A man walked by at a distance, kicking a soccer ball, and a few of the children immediately switched their focus. She laughed softly.
“Vai,” she spoke only in Portuguese, nodding in the man’s direction. “I’ll root for you.” She followed the kids out, eyes cautiously on the man. Her sea green Denver, CO hoodie was two sizes too big and the hem covered the edge of her jean shorts. She pulled her hair back into a mess of a ponytail and leaned against the nearest lamp post to watch. When the man turned, she realized his face was familiar. He was one of the volunteers she saw so often. Her eyes widened when she noticed his shirt. NYPD. He was American.
She waved. When the game ended, she would say hi. In English. If she even remembered how to speak the dang language.
