The Greeter
I was sitting preparing my vegetables at my kitchen table. The classical music was my companion on the radio. My mind wandered off to years ago.
I used to and still go to a Spanish supermarket that sells lovely fresh vegetables and fruit. Besides the vegetables, I liked to go there because of the greeter by the entrance. He had a kindly face. He must have been in his late forties, early fifties. Behind him, he had a little radio that he left on the classical station. I always smiled with pleasure as I heard it.
He sensed that I liked the music.
“Buenos Dias, Mama,” he would say shyly. It took me a long while to realize that addressing me as Mama was a sign of respect and not familiarity.
Years passed. Every time I went, he was there with his little smile and his classical music floating dreamily through the air. I wondered about him. What is his life like? Was he educated? Where did his passion for classical music come from? I would have loved to talk to him, but I do not speak Spanish, and he only speaks broken English.
One day I went to the store, and he was standing there forlornly. The music was missing. I asked him what happened to his music. He explained that someone had stolen his radio.
I felt sad for him. Who would steal a radio from this gentle harmless creature? It was like someone breaking the wings off a beautiful butterfly. He stood for hours in front of that market, winter, spring, summer, and fall. In all weather, he was there greeting people with a smile. That was his job. The only way he must have tolerated that existence was to listen to his beloved classical music. Months went by with him standing there dejectedly. Then, one day he was there no longer. I asked about him, and they said they sent him to another branch. I wondered, did he ever get another radio?
Today, as I prepared the vegetables, I thought of him once more. Who was he? What kind of life did he lead? Who was he in his own country? Was he someone who had experienced bad luck in his life? He looked as if he had gone through some hardship. I wonder and wonder but I still cannot fathom it…
title: The Greeter