The first time I told Granny that I had accepted a job on Wall Street, her remarks were, "Lord have mercy! My granddaughter going to work in Sodom & Gomorrah. Sweetheart I'm going to pray for you, because only Jesus can help you." Naturally, I was astonished by my Granny's response, she had lead a very sheltered existence and I assumed her knowledge of Wall Street was very limited. I asked, "Granny do you know anything about Wall Street?"

"Magsie, you know Granny don't gamble, but I know enough about life. I went down there one day with Sister Roberts and as I look around, all I could see was every woman thinking that she is a fashin model and every man think he's a dreamboat. Ah my child, I wasn't born yesterday you know. Anyway, I am going to pray for you and everything will be alright."

Every morning before I went to work my Granny would call me and say, "Let us pray, before you go to the land of fire and brimstone." So we usually spent thirty minutes or so praying before I went to the office. I must admit that coming from Jamaica with a lifestyle of morals and values, the Wall Street environment lacked certain spiritual virtues. But all things considered, "The Street" was just a mini-showcase to the World at large.

Granny spent most of her days watching the soaps, crocheting and making banana fritters. That was until she started watching and reading the Wall Street Reports. She became really concerned with the goings on in that environment. that she made it her business to keep informed. Eventually the curiosity became so intense that she could no longer resist. She had to make a visit downtown. Granny got dressed to "rahted" and asked a neighbor for driving directions. She hopped into her mg and was headed in the direction of "50 Wall Street".

Once she arrived into the city she became confused by the fast moving traffic and the erratic pedestrians. She decided to hail a policeman, she said, "Sir, I am going to visit my granddaughter on Wall Street, do you know where this address is?" The officer gave Granny the directions and she in return offered him some freshly baked Easter bun and banana fritters. The officer was so appreciative; he told Granny " Mam, I'll give you a police escort down there."

"God bless you my son!" and she was on her way downtown in a motorcade fit for royalty.

It was almost lunchtime when I looked through the window of the boardroom and saw sirens flashing in front of a little sports car. I thought, there must be a dignitary in town.

Everyone wondered what was going on, it had to be a political figure making their way through the crowded streets. Thirty-minutes later I gazed through the window and saw this elderly lady emerging from her sports car, and hugging the officers. My mind immediately ran on Granny.

She is usually watching her soaps at this time.

I was trying to finish a task before going to lunch when I heard an old lady's voice say, I'm here to see my granddaughter, Margaret." I was stunned for a second with disbelief, but I shrugged it off thinking that it was just a strange coincidence. It wasn't until the girl at the front desk ignored the request of Granny, that I heard her parasol tap two times on the marble desk, and she said, “Young lady, I have asked you nicely to call my granddaughter and you seem too busy with your own personal matters to do so." Granny looked at the sign and it read Levy & Son.

She said, "Is Mr. Levy here. Call Mr. Levy." By this time I had heard enough to confirm that it was my Granny. I decided to run interference. I ran over and greeted her, I also inquired about what religious mission had brought her to this part of town.

She replied, "I just wanted to make sure you were o.k. and I brought you and your co-workers some goodies." I said, "Thank you Granny but you couldn't have waited until later."

A few minutes later Mr. Levy emerged from his office. Immediately my Grandmother said to him, "I don't believe it! Are you related to the Levy's from Mountainview Road?"

"Yes, I am, " replied Mr. Levy. Granny said, "You are the spitting image of your father, this is Sister Clare's son, Barry! I used to change this boy's nappy. Com mek mi give you a hug."

A bit embarrassed Mr. Levy cozied up to Granny and offered to give her a tour of his establishment, while reminiscing old times. He vaguely remembered my Granny, but supposedly his mother Sr. Clare was her best friend and Granny was also his Godmother. He had only seen her a few times in his life and then he migrated to the States.

What are the chances that I would work at the only Brokerage House where my Granny knew the owner? By this time Granny had the attention of the whole boardroom, and I am feeling like a miniature cartoon character. As Mr. Levy gave her a tour of the offices, she listened intently to the business transactions on the phone. She took a liking to one young man and went over to him and said, "I don't really gamble, but you remind me so much of my grandson, the Lord has told me to let you know that you should tell your clients to invest in pharmaceuticals." The Broker was a good sport and smiled patronizingly at her. Ten minutes later a funny thing happened, the stock in a certain pharmaceutical company started to rise beyond belief. Granny strikes again!!

Suddenly she was bombarded with all kinds of questions and one Broker even asked for her number, so she could give him tips once in a while. Even Mr. Levy asked Granny if she would visit more often. Granny just remarked, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all things shall be added unto you. I came to see the environment my granddaughter was working in, and now I know that it is you Barry Levy, I feel better. I have to be going now but little Barry I hope you will come by for Sunday dinner." My boss turned several shades of red and just replied, "Alright Granny." The whole boardroom waved, "Bye, bye Granny, see you soon!"

I thought by this time that Granny had wreaked enough havoc in the boardroom of Levy and Son, so I kindly guided her hand towards the door, jokingly saying, "Goodnight Gracie", that was my hint to her that it was definitely time to go. Granny turned around and passed out baked goodies to everyone and then said to Mr. Levy, "You have certainly grown into a nice boy. You have a very nice shop here."

After leaving the building with Granny, she looked at me and said, "I think you'll do just fine."

Still in a state of shock from her whirlwind visit, I thought, a "nice shop" indeed. Does she have any idea what this company is worth and how powerful Mr. Levy is? Of course not, besides, Granny would not have cared anyway.

It was then I knew how lucky I was to have a Jamaican Granny who stressed morals and values as opposed to materialistic obsessions.