taste kindness, and generosity, the goodness and comfort

My first night at boarding school
the girl next to me in the dormitory
talked in Indian to me, asked me
just like the people at home
where I was from and who my family was
which comforted me, then she said, don't wash
your stockings yet; we need the radiators.
Then all the dormitory girls took out the bread
they'd saved from supper, and a jar of syrup
and said they were having a party for me,
the new girl. I'd never had a party before.
They taught me to make zip sandwiches.
Have you ever heard of them, zip sandwiches?
You take a piece of bread and pour a little syrup
and fold it and let it heat up and dry out
flat and hard on the radiator. Zip sandwiches.

Next time there was a new girl
sitting shy and lonesome on her bed
I said after the matron was gone
"Aniin, ezhiyaa yayaan?"
and told her to save her bread from supper
for a party that night. She smiled sideways.

Those zip sandwiches? Hard, stiff, sticky
they were a little unsanitary for my taste,
drying out right where we hung our underwear.
And tasty? Well, they didn't have much taste
but we loved them, and to this day, to me
sweet, hard dry sticky food
makes me think of those days,
and I taste kindness, and generosity,
the goodness and comfort of my friends.

[Linda Legarde Grover {1950- }, 'Zip', from Nitaawichige]