A petite elderly Costa Rican woman wearing a black hair net and blue apron appeared through the opening of the diner. She uttered “hello”, but it was clear to me she did not speak an ounce of English. After talking briefly with the tour guide in a language that I did not entirely comprehend, but desired to learn, she pointed to the only table outside indicating we could dine there. Native flora- deep red heliconias, orange orchids, pastel pink anthuriums- surrounded the table.

We ate fresh clams, flounder, and scallops as we watched the school children play an intense game of soccer in a field just across the street. I admired the way the children were not hidden behind their cell phones and technological objects but instead enjoyed a game of soccer with their friends.

As I ate, I reflected upon how the Costa Ricans enjoy life at a slower pace. I thought of the numerous citizens I saw on the drive to the diner riding their bicycles up steep hills. I also recalled the Costa Rican bridges where traffic comes from either side of the road, but only one car can cross at a time. Citizens have to wait patiently for other cars to cross until they can cross the bridge. Unlike Americans, who may lean on their horn if the vehicle in front of their car does not move the instant the light turns green, the Costa Ricans wait patiently for their turn.

As we were leaving the diner, I noticed various aloe plants tucked away behind the larger flora. I had acquired several mosquito bites throughout the day and knew the aloe from the aloe plants would help relieve the irritation. The elderly woman noticed I was glancing at the aloe plants and without a word retrieved a knife from the kitchen and cut a stem off for me. She held the cut stem and pointed to the bug bites on my arm. She then continued to cut three more stems off the aloe plant, placed them in a ziplock bag, and gave them to me while uttering the words “pura vida.”

I was awestruck. Here was someone who was less fortunate than me; yet, revealed pure selflessness by offering me stems from her aloe plant. She did not give me a fancy new car or an expensive gadget, but she gave me what I really needed in that moment. She taught me what no one could have possibly taught me- a generous heart, a humble mind, and a selfless life.

Pura vida. Two simple words that have a profound impact on me. Translating to “pure life”, pura vida is more than just a saying, but rather a lifestyle. Through the idea of pura vida I realized I do not need to save up for that brand new Iphone 6, instead I will appreciate the flip phone I currently own. Instead of yearning for a new Iphone, I look forward to family walks at Chatfield Hollow State Park where I can admire nature’s pure beauty.

Because of a petite elderly woman with a black hair net and blue apron, I learned to give generously and appreciate all I have because I realize that materialistic goods are not essential. What brings me the greatest joy instead is spending time with my family.