How I Met Paula

 Hey Neighbor!

Welcome back to THE NEIGHBORHOOD!  This week I want to tell you a story about the incident that inspired my love of storytelling and my love of community and connection over food.  Imagine yourself in a popular lunch spot on the Upper West Side and get ready to meet my dear friend, Paula.  

I make the thrilling and exciting move to New York City and I am paralyzed with fear!  


How can I possibly make a home here?


I leave my “straight out of a Norman Rockwell” painting hometown, Havertown, PA, where everybody in my neighborhood knows my name and feels like family, to New York City, where I am surrounded by strangers.  


I start searching for connection and for my places that feel like my special spots.  

         

I discover the Upper West Side and fall in love with how charming it is.  I find a church and my dance studio and I love how the park is nearby.  It feels just like Havertown where Merwood Park was right down the street too!  Then, I stumble upon Zabars, the food emporium from the movie You’ve Got Mail.  It feels like a warm hug.  It seems like people know each other here.  I realize that there is a cafe right next door.  It looks just like a cafeteria where customers line up with red plastic trays to get their food from behind the counter.  I love this.  The soup is $4!  A steal!  I go to sit down and notice that there is one big rectangular table and everyone crams around it.  


Most people don’t converse.  They stare at their phones or read the paper.  


Sure, there are groups of old ladies who talk about their trips to the doctors and gossip about other ladies that they know.  I love eavesdropping on their conversations.  However, most people don’t pay attention to one another.  The true New York way.  


One older woman with short grey hair, striking blue eyes, and a child’s beaded necklace around her neck catches my eye.  She nods hello and says “sit down, I tell stories.”  


I do as I’m told and immediately she asks me where I am from.  When I tell her that I work at a popular bakery in the neighborhood, her eyes light up and she tells me that she knows it well.  When other people walk in she introduces me as “this woman is an actress and works at a popular bakery with the biggest cookies!  You wouldn’t believe the line!” 


 I don’t feel like a stranger anymore.  


I find out that her name is Paula.  She grew up in Hungary, was captured by the Germans and put into Auschwitz.  When the camps were liberated, she moved to New York.  She was 12 years old and terrified and worked a number of jobs.  


Now, she spends time at Zabars.  She arrives around noon and stays until about 3.  She buys a cup of coffee and brings her own sandwich, because she doesn’t like the food they sell.  


People always stop by to visit her and she makes more friends everyday.  


I keep going back to visit Paula.  When she has news for me she exclaims “sit down, eat your food.  I have such news to tell you, but you need your strength.” 


 When my grandfather passes away, she gives me a kiss on the cheek and says,


“sometimes we have to be brave.”  


I have found a dear friend and a special place that I can claim as one of my own special spots.  I enjoy the food, but mostly I enjoy the conversations with Paula.  It feels nice to have someone light up and say hi when I walk into a busy New York City cafe.  


I realize that it is possible to make New York City feel like home.  I just have to look up, wave at someone and offer a smile.  Just like Paula.  


Now I want to hear from you, my dear neighbor!  


Does Paula remind you of anyone in your life?  Have you had a similar experience to mine in Zabars?  


Leave a comment and let me know.  I can’t wait to hear your story!  


I’ve Got You In My Pocket, 

Jackie 


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