Last night my friend Fran brought me a handful of Cilantro seeds. Fran is from El Salvador and speaks very little English. I only know about two dozen words of Spanish, but we still manage to communicate quite well. (A quick game of charades often explains what our dialect can't) He was so proud of his gift of seeds, and manged to to tell me with his hands they were for planting. "Oh, you need a pot," I said with my arms held out in front of me in a giant circle. In Spanish Fran exclaimed he had one. He disappeared out my front door, and down twenty stairs calling from below for "Tia." Tia is his sister who also speaks very little English. In a matter of minutes Patty and Fran carried a huge tub of dirt up my stairs, and in to my kitchen. Fran grinned from ear-to-ear. His eyes twinkled as he told me he was giving me this valuable perfect dirt. "It is very good!" He said. I followed him as he drug it out onto my back deck, and watched him sift his fingers through the soil showing me hand fulls with such glee. While I made dinner, Fran planted Cilantro in my back yard. I laughed a lot, and told my husband that it was the sweetest gift anyone had ever given me. It brought back to memory the movie, "Pirates of the Caribbean," where Johnny Depp carried around his coveted jar of dirt. I hope I never have to move from my home, but if I do I will take a bowl of Fran's prized dirt with me.