Fall 2004 Story Contest - Third Place
Don William
Jenny Retting
CIEE Santo Domingo Fall 2004
Don William, my Dominican host father, was in his mid-eighties. He was fragile and quiet and spent the day lying in bed or watching TV. I was skeptical that any sort of close relationship would develop between us, and I felt awkward and timid around him. One night as I was getting ready to go out dancing, Don William sat watching a baseball game on the old, fuzzy television in the living room. As I walked out the door, he caught a glimpse of my high heel shoes and called out, “Vas a bailar?” (Are you going to dance?) I was worried he would warn me about staying out too late, but instead, a slow smile crept across his face as he wished me a good night.
The next morning at the breakfast table, Don William shuffled into the room. Catching sight of me, he broadly grinned and asked if I had danced the night before. Then, as fast as his crippled feet could carry him, he hurried into the next room and came back with a photo. It showed Don William as a dashing young man, handsome, strong and smiling, dancing with a woman in a short flashy skirt. This was me in my younger days, he explained as his eyes lit up in excitement.
Thereafter, a special bond began to grow between Don William and myself. I became his “hija,” or daughter, and he always wanted to hear about my dancing adventures. In turn, he showed me pictures of the young Don William and told me stories about his youth. I found myself becoming closest with the one member of the family I had been so skeptical about.
When the day came for me to leave, Don William stood at the door, tears streaming down his wrinkled face as he took me in his frail arms and hugged me goodbye. Whispering softly in my ear, he spoke to me in English for the first time. “My daughter, this is your home. Please come back.” My own tears blurred my view as I got into the taxi and watched the small figure of Don William slowly disappear into the distance.