I have written this story to thank an unknown vendor for a kind service rendered at the Christmas market this year. The story is a bit off topic from what I usually post here, but I thought I would share the story for the holidays. Season’s Greetings, good readers!
“So, can anyone tell me how to get to the bus depot from — let’s say — here, at the shopping center?” I scanned the room, looking for anyone willing enough to give the lesson a try.
I caught Gretchin out of the corner of my eye, who seemed moderately interested and brave enough to give the directions I was asking for.
“Gretchin, would you like to try it?”
“I will. Go out onto the street and turn right.”
“Good, and then?”
“Walk straight along the road to the intersection and turn left.” There was a slight pause as she thought a moment about the next step.
“Yes, and then?”
“The bus stop is in front of the hill,” she said, wincing at her uncertainty for this last part.
“At the top of the hill,” I corrected.
“The bus stop is at the top of the hill,” she repeated, a little discouraged by her mistake but thankful for having the opportunity to have another go at it. A few of the others were diligently writing in their notebooks.
“Well then, everyone, I do believe we are running out of time,” I said, noting the relief in everyone’s faces, “so my last question for the day will be — where’s the Christkindelsmarkt?”
Everyone chuckled at the suggestion, and immediately began gathering their things. I too set to the task of straightening up, eager to join my students for a nice evening at the Christmas market. I hadn’t had the chance to visit the market yet, and it was already two weeks into the season for it. Judging how quietly most of my students reacted during this evening’s lesson, I would say we were all in need of a spiced wine.
I took my jacket down from the coat rack and pulled it on over my shoulders as I hoisted my leather tote, bulky and cumbersome from the weight of a whole day’s worth of English lessons, and made my way for the door, switching off the lights as I left. All of my students approached me the week before, asking if I would be interested in joining them after this evening’s class for a festive outing at the Christmas market, and I humbly accepted the invitation. It was a nice feeling to know that my relationship with them was being taken to a new level.
We all walked down the steps together and made our way for the main entrance. I dropped off the CD player with the School’s caretaker, bid him a nice evening, and caught up with those who were making their way out of the door. The weather outside was frightful, and the misty dew made the evening air cold and clammy to the touch. One could see the mist swaying this way and that under the sodium lamps, the orange tinted glow taking the edge of the chill the moisture created. We walked together down the main street to the pedestrian zone, making small talk along the way.
Not even five minutes later, the cobble-stoned streets turned into the first signs of holiday festivities. Hanging over the street, from store front to store front, were the first ornaments leading one to the Christmas market. Wreaths adorned with holly berries and mistletoe hung from lighting fixtures at intervals of a few feet all the way down the street, marking the way through the city’s center to the marketplace where the kiosks could be found. People were coming and going from shops, large shopping bags showing their agendas, as we made our way closer to the market’s edge.
Finally, our group stood before the Christkindelsmarkt. We slowed down and stopped at the edge of the market to take the scenery before us in. The constant chatter of people talking, conversations that were muddled out by other conversations, filled the night sky. All of the eateries and stands were centered around a gigantic conifer tree that towered well over a few of the storefront buildings along the marketplace’s edge. The tree was adorned with large glass-ball ornaments in varying shades of red, green and violet; long strands of lights were draped from head to toe, illuminating the tree to reveal its magnificence.
I scanned my students, taking in their reactions, and waited for them to make the first move. It was soon clear that we didn’t have a plan of any sorts, so we decided to meet back up in ten minutes time to allow everyone a chance to fetch something for themselves. Most of them went for the eateries. I headed to the first spiced wine stand I could find. It wasn’t long before I was sipping on a steaming-hot mug of mulled wine, the savory taste of the wine lifting my spirit.
As everyone started to make their way back to our meeting point, we started to settle into our niches. Some of them were interested in practicing their English, so we conversed the majority of the evening on a wide range of topics. One of my colleagues from the school stopped by to join us, and she added all the more to great conversation that was developing from the evening.
I took a look around at the various stands, my wine having since been empty some minutes before, when I noticed people around the stands thinning out. More and more people were beginning to part ways. “Seems to be clearing out,” I commented, as the others turned around to look. The eight o’clock church bells started to ring out into the night, marking the closing of the Christmas market.
“Well, I must go home now,” Terrence said politely, addressing each of us, shaking everyone’s hand in turn. From there, it was a chain reaction of departures, everyone seeming to buzz still with the last vestiges of the festive outing. Suddenly, it dawned on me. I was forgetting something. Knowing that I was going to the Christkindelsmarkt that evening, my wife instructed me to pick up a bag of candied almonds. The last strike of the eight o’clock bell was like a light bulb going on in my head.
“Oh crap! I forget to buy almonds! I’ll be right back everyone.”
In a mad dash, I raced through what remained of the Christmas market, but it seemed I was too late. Most of the kiosks had already closed up their stands, heavy blinds keeping me from fulfilling my promise. I paced the market aisles, running from one row to another, in the hopes that around the next corner would be a stand still open for business. By the last row, I had lost hope. I had forgotten to buy candied almonds, and my wife would be disappointed for it. “What luck,” I said to myself out loud, disappointed in myself for having gotten too wrapped up in the festive moment. Suddenly, I saw them.
“Wait! Please, wait,” I yelled, nearly out of breath from rushing over to them.
Two men were wrapping a tarp over the open side of their stand, both vendors struggling to fix the tarp in place. They stopped what they were doing to listen.
“Please, I made a promise to buy almonds for my wife this evening, and I nearly forgot. Would you be so kind to sell me some before you close up for the evening?” I pleaded, hoping they would make the transactions.
Both vendors looked at each other, when I added, “I know you’re closing up for the night, but I would be very grateful if you would sell me a bag.”
“Alright. No problem. We will sell you a bag,” said the man closest to me, a tall fellow in a winter vest and ski cap. He looked at his colleague, who immediately looked annoyed at his statement.
“You have no idea how much you’re helping me. Thank you.” I added, hoping to smooth things over a bit.
The other vendor, now behind the display, asked what I wanted. I took a look at the prices and opted for the more expensive bag, in hopes that my selection would at least show my gratitude for their service.
The man began shoveling candied almonds into the bag, setting it upon a scale for measure, and started closing it up, when his colleague closest to me said rather curtly, “This man asked for a large bag of almonds.”
With a mounting tension in the air, I listened as the vendor with my almonds exclaimed something back to his colleague in Russian, a language I didn’t need to understand to know just what was happening. I took a quick look at the scale and saw that the balance has tipped for a lesser weight. He was planning to rip me off a few almonds, no doubt for my disrupting their closing time.
I cast a quick look at the taller man next to me to see what his reaction would be and his glaring gaze at his colleague was colder than the night air where we were standing. I turned back to the vendor behind the display and asked how much it would be for a large bag, knowing full well the price was marked right in front of me.
I pulled out another bag, a larger bag, and began loading more almonds into my request, seemingly disgruntled at having been called out for his actions. Once he finished, he placed the rightful amount of almonds up on the glass counter and said, “5 Euros.”
I quickly paid the man, nodded to his friendlier colleague, thanking him for his kindness, wished them both a nice evening and ran back to my friends. Of course, they were waiting, perplexed by my sudden disappearance, as they knew I was coming back but they didn’t know why I had run off in the first place, so I owed them an explanation. I told them about my promise and why I needed to run off the way I did, and they all laughed with me.
It was easy to shrug off what had happened just then in the presence of my new friends, but I couldn’t help but wonder on my way home that evening if I had set things in motion that would change the way those two men would come to work with one another. I wouldn’t have been none the wiser if that vendor had indeed cut me short on my request. The fact that his colleague stepped in to defend me, a customer — no doubt for something as simple as a bag of almonds — when he could have turned a blind eye to the own ordeal leaves me thankful for all of the honest people that exist out there in the world today. It’s the principle of the matter that counts here, so I have written this piece to thank him, whoever he may be, for doing the right thing, even when it was at his expense in the end.
Image source: ReneS. “Christmas Market in Jena.” Wikipedia.org. Wikipedia foundation, Inc. 21 Dec. 2007. [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_market#mediaviewer/File:ChristmasMarketJena.jpg]