The Power of a Juicebox

Two girls were walking down the street, one was pretty, one was sleek. Kidding! Lol. That’s not how the story goes. Ok, here we go again:

Two girls were walking down the street on a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon. They were eating doughnuts and drinking juice.  It was noisy and busy out, as people in Santo Domingo tend to take Sunday afternoons to go out with the family. On their trip, the girls passed by two big malls, a bike shop, and several other commercial places, including an amusement park with a wax “ice” skating rink in the parking lot. The traffic was heavy, but fluid, and the sidewalks were full of children and their parents trying to get into the new “ice” skating sensation. It was crowded, there was loud music playing and cars blowing their horns, but the walk was pleasant nonetheless. It had been a while since the two friends had been together, especially in an environment so full of life.

As they walked further down the same road, the street got significantly less lively. They passed by a few banks and other closed businesses; there was neither music nor people, just cars and boys that cleaned the front glass of people’s cars for change. They passed a Haitian family walking towards the busy part of the road that seemed surprisingly happy (sadly, this is not a common scene in Sto. Dgo.), and a man painting the wall of a bank. The man was the first person either of the girls had seen working that day: he was sweating, breathing hard, and sitting on the floor next to the wall he was almost done painting. The girls made no comment about him, but soon after passing him, Juana turned around, took a small juice box out of a plastic bag, and offered it to the tired man saying: “Drink this, friend. You need a break.”  The man, with white paint on his hands and his face, took the juice with a pleasantly confused expression, and watched Juana walk away with her friend, Maria. Again, no comment was made about the situation even though the Maria seemed surprised.

The following week Juana slept over Maria’s house. On their way out to get a cab in the morning, Maria picked up the newspaper from outside the door and took it along (she was very serious about reading her own newspaper every morning). But that morning, instead of reading it as she normally did, she gave it to the cabdriver after arriving to their final destination. She later told Juana she had never done that before, but that seeing her share her untouched juice with the painter made her feel “fuzzy” and inspired her to do the same. Juana had no idea her interaction with the painter would impact anyone’s behavior, but it did, and maybe that of the painter too.

Names changed to protect the identity of those involved.