My girl got to sit with us; usually she's up and around, working. My darling husband was supposed to come, but he had been feeling under the weather since Tuesday, so my niece was my date instead. It was us and my girl, and her boyfriend, rubbing shoulders with New York's deep-pocketed crowd, the ones who care about hunger. I sat next to a lovely woman who told me she grew up poor in Cuba, and knew what it was to be hungry. " I had no idea my circumstances would change so significantly," she said, putting an arm around her husband. "It's all thanks to him." She shared that he was from a Philadelphia Main Line family, and was a corporate attorney. "He is the best husband," she said, "and now we have houses and enough of everything, and since we'e going to spend money anyway, why not feed people who still don't have enough to eat."
This woman also told me that my daughter is absolutely beautiful, and she is, and last night she was positively radiant in her semi-formal attire, greeting and mingling with the evening's guests. It's her smile that makes her shine, though. It's hard to miss. My niece and I patted our hearts and said, "Look at our little one, in her element, and affording us such experiences."
The best part of the evening was being with three fine and funny young people whom I love, and also meeting the people my girl works with, and having them, to a one, tell me how much they adore my daughter. One woman said quite seriously, "I didn't realize at first how fresh out of college she was. She has such a solid and humane core, and a very reasoned judgment." Even her bosses came over to rave about my girl, and the woman next to me leaned over and whispered, "She's the most popular person in the room."
In the cab on the way home, I told my daughter about all her good reviews. She said, "Mom, they kind of have to say that to the mother." But I, the mother, believe they were speaking true.