On Wednesday, I was coming in from Linstead, and just after we got off the Mandela Highway, there was traffic heading onto the boulevard. As we crawled along, I noticed two cars pull very close together. Hands stretched out of the windows, and in one hand was a bag of mangoes. The other car drove up alongside, and the other hand grabbed mangoes, waved and the window rolled up again.

I was directly behind the two cars and I thought, How wonderful. They must know each other, I said to myself.

Traffic moved on, and then, by chance, I found myself parallel to the driver who had given away the mangoes. On impulse, I rolled down my window, blew my horn and, when the window of the other car rolled down, I jokingly, asked, “Where is my mango?” I smiled, then laughed.  Traffic began to move so I drove on.

After all, I had just watched her give two mangoes to another car.

Traffic moved again and then tightened up once more. A few moments later, I heard a horn beside me. Lo and behold, the same woman rolled down her window and handed me a plastic bag containing two mangoes. Our cars were close enough for her to reach across, and I gladly accepted them.

I thanked her profusely, and I thought: Only in Jamaica, in the middle of traffic, would people exchange mangoes on the road.

That gesture reminded me of something we often forget. We talk about our crime and violence numbers, and those things are real. But there is another Jamaica that is just as real, the Jamaica of generosity, kindness, and spontaneous giving.

This woman embodied that spirit. I had only said, “Where is my mango?” in jest. Yet she obviously had more mangoes in her car, put two in a bag, and reached out her hand to share them with me, a stranger.

To me, that moment epitomized the best of Jamaica.  I love us.

I want to say respect and thanks to that woman. I want to Big Up those Jamaicans who still carry the Jamaican spirit of sharing, giving, and simple generosity.

Thank you. It was a wonderful manifestation of our Jamaican spirit and a reminder that sometimes a joke can become food.

I want the woman, whose name I do not know, to know that I enjoyed the mangoes, and am grateful. More importantly, I am grateful for her generosity because for that brief moment on a crowded road, she reminded me of the Jamaica I love.

I was happy and light throughout the remainder of the day and shared that story with others. I invite my fellow Jamaicans to daily, consciously celebrate that aspect of our immutable culture.