Like a lot of people who've moved to Orlando, Magdalena Justiniano's life was disrupted by the hurricane that hit Puerto Rico.

No, not Hurricane Maria. Remember Hurricane San Felipe?

She has no trouble recalling the storm, since she was 14 years old when it devastated her hometown.

Recently, she turned the big 1-0-4. It's unclear whether that makes Magdalena the oldest person in Orlando, but 104 years of life's storms have made her one of the city's wiser and more humble residents.

She didn't want a big deal made out of her big day. She didn't even feel all that special.

"I feel the same," Magdalena said.

And how does she feel?

"I feel like wood ready for a fire," she laughed.

No doubt, Magdalena's gait is little stiff. But she could pass for a lass of 85, especially when she gets spiffed up for company.

I paid her a visit with videographer Ricardo Ramirez-Buxeda. Magdalena had styled her hair in a bun and put on earrings and a necklace she'd made.

She lives in Room 204 at The Bridge at Orlando, an assisted living facility near UCF. She scoots around the halls with help of her walker with wheels. It's lined with about a dozen stuffed animals to keep her company.

Her room is spacious and bright with a kitchenette, a Bible and a Winnie the Pooh bear by the single bed, and birds.

Lots of birds.

Not real ones, but paintings and figurines of her favorite creatures. Magdalena prefers reading, but she keeps a TV around for a reason.

"To watch the weather so she can know whether to go out and feed the birds," said Grisselle Lopez De Victoria, the resident care specialist who acted as Magdalena's translator.

The first thing I wanted to know, of course, was her secret for a long life.

Magdalena doesn't drink or smoke. Never has. She has one cup of coffee every morning. But that's not how she lived this long.

"The secret to a long life," she said, "is when you give, you receive."

She's done her share of that. It began not long after her birth in 1914 in the mountain village of Laras.

For a little perspective, Babe Ruth was still a month away from making his Major League debut and World War I was about to break out.

Far away from all that, Magdalena was born into a family that grew to have 10 children. Like many in her town of Laras, her father was a farmer.

Families would regularly congregate, share chores and stories about their daily lives. It was like Facebook with actual human interaction.

Magdalena amused everybody with her mischievousness. At school, she would stick chalk in an eraser so the teacher would end up scribbling all over the chalkboard when he tried to erase it.

The fun ended in sixth grade when San Felipe's 160 mph winds blew through. The school was destroyed and Magdalena would never return.

She worked and eventually married. A missionary group from Illinois had come to help after the hurricane.

With the help of the missionaries, Magdalena and her husband moved to Chicago. He worked at Sears and she embroidered rugs.

After recalling a few stories for us, Magdalena stopped and said something in Spanish to the care specialist.

"She doesn't want to take up your time," Grisselle said.

We assured her that was not a problem. So she got out a wicker basket full of papers.

"Her memories," Grisselle said.

There were photos of the two children she and her husband adopted, and their kids, and their kids' kids, and even a couple of great-great grandchildren.

Magdalena carefully removed a certificate from a plastic bag. It was her high school diploma, dated July 9, 1964.

She had never gone back to school after the hurricane of '28. So she'd home-schooled herself and earned her degree at age 50.

Magdalena moved back to Puerto Rico and her husband died in 1984. About 10 years later, friends convinced her to move to Orlando.

She stays busy these days reading, reminiscing and sewing. She'll take a couple of small towels, stitch them together, sew on a strap and make a handbag.

"She'll carry the bread outside for the birds," Grisselle said.

When you've been around as long as Magdalena, you learn what matters and what doesn't. I asked her if she pays much attention to politics.

"I don't have the time," Magdalena said.

Yes, there really are better things to do than argue over Donald Trump.

"I got something beautiful from my father," Magdalena said. "My father was Republican and (Franklin) Roosevelt was a Democrat, and my father had a picture of Roosevelt. Even though they were different, he liked that person."

Magdalena doesn't get caught up in life's little hurricanes. Before we left, she offered one more piece of advice.

"Forgive anybody who does harm to you," she said. "If you forgive people, then you have no worries. Therefore you have a happy life."

With that, it was lunchtime. Magdalena got up out of her rocking chair and grabbed her walker and one of her handbags.

She thanked us for coming and took off down the hallway.

There was a sandwich to eat and birds to feed.

You're never too old to give and receive.

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