On Saturday morning I walked through the organic farmer's market. I saw these funky hot pink flowers for sale in one of the stalls. But I didn't buy them because it would be some hours before I got home and I feared they would wilt.
Later, walking back via that same path, I saw a little girl holding one bouquet of these flowers in each hand. Probably a street child or living in very poor circumstances. And she was cute. She was the kind of girl with long flowing locks that would get chosen to be in some international end-poverty TV commercial. Just send money and you can help her live a better life because now she can buy books for school. Or something like that. I wonder if she goes to school...
"Flowers?" she asked me.
I paused.
After all, I had wanted to buy them earlier.
"Two reais" she said (about $1.10 American). "This bunch of flowers, there's something wrong with them," she added pointing to the bouquet in her left hand. Indeed, the stalks looked a bit bruised.
"Hmm," I said, "I think I'll take the other bunch." I felt a tad guilty about not taking the flowers that looked like they would die in a few hours.
It's just that doing the math, even she managed to sell both of these, she'd make only a few dollars. I wondered where this money would go. Did she have parents or family members? Would she keep it for herself? What would she spend it on? To me, it was some spare change that I could afford to give away. But, to her...
Walking down the path, I saw more children emerge holding bouquets of flowers. Somehow I hadn't noticed them before, but now -- perhaps because of my interaction with the girl moments before -- they now were visible to me. All the flowers were distinctly similar to the options for sale earlier during the organic farmers market.
Visions of orphans from Oliver Twist flooded my brain. And I wondered how they got these flowers. Did they pick up the left-overs on the ground from the market? Did the folks just give them left-over flowers at the end? Did they get a five-finger discount? In any case, another creative way to try and make a few cents.
The flowers look pretty in a vase in the kitchen now. And I wonder where that little girl is and if she managed to sell the second bouquet.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
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