Two weeks ago, while browsing the weekly open air market stalls for my fruit and veg for the next seven days, I spotted some home grown rhubarb. It is one of my favorites, probably because I can recall a childhood watching Grandad yank the stalks out of his vegetable patch and then hand them to Granny to make a delicious pie. I would hover by the table as she cut up the rhubarb hoping she would dip a piece in some sugar for me. When she did I eagerly bit into the one inch wedge of tartness, my face puckering as I waited for the sweetness of the sugar to increase my pleasure.
No surprise then, that once I had returned from the market and was back in the kitchen, my first thought was to prepare my own rhubarb dessert while reminiscing on those cherished childhood memories. As I unpacked the groceries I discovered, to my dismay, that I had left the rhubarb at the stall. It took a few minutes before I stopped scolding myself for being so careless and tried instead to console myself by remembering the saying that the anticipation is often more enjoyable than the event. I’m not so sure when it comes to rhubarb.
Well today, I revisited that stall and picked out some carrots, an onion and some plums. There was no rhubarb. I recognized the young man serving me, whose name I later found out is Bryn, and mentioned to him of my carelessness the last time I was there. He remembered and told me that he had kept the rhubarb for me (which I had paid for) in case I returned. Then he told me to take the produce I was planning on buying today, free of charge, to make up for my disappointment. The lesson I learned from this encounter is that people are good. So, thanks to Bryn and Tommy, stallholders.
Other good people who have helped me out this week are people I have never met and yet they responded to my requests. I posted in a local Facebook page that I like to crochet, and as there is no TV where I’m staying, it is one way to pass the evening. I asked for any unwanted surplus yarn and within a few minutes Nancy and Menna, strangers to me, were offering to drop off what they had. When I returned from my walk, there, hanging on the door handle, was a bag full of wool. Lesson learned from that exchange is that people are good. Thanks to Menna and Nancy.
I also asked if anyone could lend me a classical guitar for a week, as we have a writer coming from Italy who enjoys playing. Yet again, a person I have never met, offered his to me. When I returned from the market, it was propped up outside the front door waiting for me. Lesson learned from that interaction, people are good. Thanks to Godfrey for trusting me with his guitar.
There are so many helpful and kind folk about who are ready to step up and make life just a little easier for others. Veronica, for generously sharing her space, the pub landlord and landlady, who showed up with a memory foam mattress topper, for my added comfort, and Mike and Andy who have offered to help remove a heavy oil container from the back yard as well as provide a guitar.
Lesson learned every day is o be grateful that there are more and more good people.