Page 91 of His Secret Gift

“I’m always fascinated when I talk to people like you who were raised religiously.”

“You weren’t?” Obviously, I gather from his statement that he didn’t. But just assuming wouldn’t make for good conversation.

“Not at all.”

Now thatIcan’t fathom. I may not align with religion anymore, but I still accredit it for making me a good person.

“So, what do you consider your moral compass then?”

He’s now spinning the white, long wrapper around his finger. “My mother.”

Oh.That’s sweet.

“For instance, she was the one who suggested that I join the Peace Corps when I was struggling with finding a purpose near the end of my senior year.”

“Wow. You think she’d be too worried about her son traveling across the world.”

He shrugs one of his shoulders, with his corresponding eye and side of the mouth drooping up and down, respectively. “We’d been all around the world by that point.”

Right. Yet another way in which our childhoods were very, very different.

“I see.” Then, something hits me. “Are there any countries you haven’t been to that are on your bucket list?”

“Hmm. Great question.” He puts his elbow on the table, and he taps his chin with his finger. “Probably Afghanistan.”

He caught me off guard yet again. “Really?”

“Yeah. I might not look like it, but I have some familial ancestry there. It popped up on one of those DNA tests, and then I looked into it, and sure enough, my great grandpa was an Afghani immigrant.”

“That’s so interesting. Do you know why no one in your family knew or at least talked about that?” I’m loving getting to know him better.

“I don’t think he discussed it much. At least, my grandpa, his son, never mentioned it. Unfortunately, he died before I found out, so I can’t ask if he was even aware of the fact.”

“I gotta say, I’m kind of jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Your ancestry. When I got mine back, it said I was one hundred percent European.”

He takes a sip of water. “But Europe is so diverse and full of culture.”

“I know.”

“Have you ever been?”

I’m ashamed to admit that I haven’t.

“Well, you must go. What parts are your family from?”

“Mainly Ireland—”

“That’s right.” He points at me. “You said your grandparents were Irish.”

I nod. “Yes, so that wasn’t a surprise when it came back. If anything, it would’ve been devastating and strange if I wasn’t mostly Irish. Um, but I guess I am also Italian, French, Polish, English, Scottish.”

“See? All the countries you just listed are so unique from one another. There’s even a vast difference between England, Ireland, and Scotland. Many people assume there isn’t, but they’re wrong. Your grandma and grandpa were actually from Ireland then?”

I tuck some hair behind my ear. “Yep. County Cork.”

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