When I dropped off the refugees to do laundry on Saturday morning-

I had some time and we were close to my house, so I asked if I could get them coffee.

Three of the four said yes, but when I asked the fourth if he wanted tea or hot chocolate, he said tea (con azucar), and then the other three asked if they could switch to hot chocolate (con leche y azucar).

None of them actually wanted coffee. As someone who took a long time to learn to like coffee at all, I’m sort of amused at how that was my default. So American. And also sad when I think about how many of their little personal preferences have had to be put aside in the months they’ve spent as refugees.

Hopefully we can get them into permanent housing with work authorization soon, so they can have some more control over their lives.

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