Joya

Joya and I see each other every Saturday morning when we drop off 'our' kids at arts and crafts class. We sit and wait together. But I don't just know her because we cross paths on Saturday mornings. Joya is also Portia's friend. Her husband is some sort of consultant, and they have two little boys. They also love the Lord.

Joya invites me over every so often for dinner, to learn Chinese, or teach English to her son. Unlike most of the wealthy women here, Joya is a homemaker. She cleans her house by herself, she watches over her boys, and she cooks for her family. It's not as if they can't afford a helper. And Joya has expressed some anxiety and frustration over her work. But she's set on raising her boys herself, even if it wears her out.

Last time I went over to her house, we ate delicious soup, rice, duck, pig ears, and mango. Kevin, the older son, prayed before we ate. His dad helped him with the words. Afterwards, her boys and I played with their transformer toys happily at the coffee table as their dad checked something on the internet. Joya played a piece by Chopin on the piano. And everyone was in a truly good mood. She sent me home with some leftover food. She always smiles and laughs at my dumb jokes.

Oh, and did I mention? Before she got married she lived in Italy because she was one of the top Taiwanese opera singers.