Written by David Golbert Friday, 04 December 2009 00:00
I met Marcy 15 years ago at a roofing supply store in Jamaica. She was a salesperson there and I was a wet behind the ears salesman looking for new accounts. Many of her customers were Hispanic and they loved the fact that Marcy spoke fluent Spanish, and that she treated everyone with respect and kindness.
I never met Marcy’s husband, but I knew Frank from all the stories Marcy told me. They loved to go to Atlantic City to play blackjack, and every year they took a cruise to the Caribbean. Frank’s health was never good, and Marcy spent most of her free time taking him to doctor appointments. A year ago, when he was diagnosed with cancer, Marcy took a leave of absence to be his full-time nurse. Six months later, Frank passed away.
When, she was ready to return to work, Marcy was told that her position had been cut because the company had downsized. She finally found a new position with a company in West Hempstead, who was also one of my accounts. Last week, her new company closed that location, and Marcy was out of work again.
I got a call from Marcy last week. She told me she had a turkey she wanted to donate to the soup kitchen where I volunteer. I stopped by her house the next day to pick it up. We talked for a few minutes and as I was ready to leave, Marcy gave me the turkey and a $20 donation.
“Marcy, you don’t have to do this. You just lost your job,” I protested. Marcy smiled at me and said, “It’s something I need to do.” I’ve received a lot of donations in recent weeks, but none more special than Marcy’s.