The cleaning ladies (there are three or them) have distinct personalities, with each one having her own characteristic. My wife serves them coffee, but Maria goes right to work without indulging, unless you mention it. And Veronica puts things that might get misplaced, like my keys, in my drawer (where I never thought of looking for them.)
They are a great bunch, all from Central America, and only two of them speak English. They are diligent women, and far outshine their domestic competitors. I’m glad for their presence here; they cost a little more, since there are three, but they’re worth it.
I think it’s wonderful to live in a country that can afford to absorb all these wonderful immigrants. Here’s to a God who tells us to treat the stranger well, as in “The Good Samaritan.”