My mother was born and raised in Sri Lanka, the oldest of 12 children.
Her mother Iris spent most days toiling in their kitchen from dawn until the last child was fed at night. Sitting on a stool and grinding coconut while her children watched, she made miracles happen in order to feed every hungry mouth in the house. If a beggar walked by the house asking for money, they would receive a meal as well. She taught her family love and that legacy lives on here in DC through her firstborn daughter Bernadette, known by all as "Ammie."
Growing up, everyone knew there was always an open seat at the dinner table at our house.
This was not just any seat either, it was where they could count on eating the most amazing food they had never heard of before. My friends didn't know what any of it was called, they just knew that there never needed to be an occasion to be served aside from being hungry.