A Yogurt Cup of Hope

About 10 years ago I moved from Minnesota to Montana. I ran away from everything I knew for too many reasons to list.. The biggest reason was that I lost my home to foreclosure, which was all my own fault. That is something to be touched on another day.

When I moved here I was broke as broke could be. I lived in a run down and dumpy studio apartment. I only knew two people in Montana. I had no friends, no job, no family near by, and no hope. I think out of all of these the no hope was the worst for me. I wasn’t starving, I had enough money for food. If something was free I would gratefully attend as I couldn’t afford to pay for anything.  I knew I couldn’t even buy something at the thrift store because I needed all my pennies. For a girl who was used to running through a paycheck like water, this was humbling and depressing for me.

I had heard about the local Farmer’s Market in town. That was free, yea! I could go to that.  I had never been to a Farmers Market before and thought it would allow me to be around people. I was so very lonely and just being a crowd of people would be good for my soul.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to buy any of the treats they had at the stalls, but I it allowed me to see that there were people around. Oh, the sights and smells were amazing! Everything from fruits and veggies to flowers and craft items. I walked past every booth very slowly, just to take them all in. At one of the last booths I walked by, they were selling veggies. The owners of their stall allowed their small daughter to have her own little space in their stall. She was selling flowers in yogurt cups. The look of pride on her face as people bought her flowers just made me smile. I had a sudden impulse that I too wanted her flowers. The price was $1.75, which was pretty steep for me. Something told me that I needed those flowers in my dumpy apartment. That just having them would add a touch of color and life into my bleak hovel. I carefully counted out the money and gave it to her, she gave me my flowers. The grin of her face and sense of pride at selling her own flowers made me happy all day.

Daisy

I took them home and put them on my dilapidated table. They added a touch of color to a normally gloomy place. I made sure the flowers had water when the water dried up. Every Saturday I would go to the Farmer’s Market just for this little girl’s flowers. It gave me something to look forward to in my otherwise lonely and glum life. If I had to pick between her flowers or eating, I would have picked her flowers.

stop and see the beauty along the way

My life took a turn for the better.  I was happy, stable and dating and living with my friend I knew when I moved to Montana. Later he would become my husband. I finally had my life on the right track. I didn’t need to go to the Farmer’s Market. I didn’t need that small bit of cheer. One day we decided to attend The Farmer’s Market. I thought that would be a great idea. I thought I show Roy, the little girl who sold me flowers in a yogurt cups that gave me so much joy. I grabbed his hand and tugged on him towards the stall where the little girl was. She wasn’t there. I thought perhaps they had moved her families stall so I insisted that we go through the whole Farmer’s Market to find her.

I never found her that day, nor other times when I went back. It makes me wonder if she ever existed at all. I know she did, I saw her and bought flowers from her. Perhaps she had gotten old enough that her parents didn’t entertain her selling her little cups of flowers.

What I do know is that when I needed a bit of sunshine and hope, that little girl was there to give it to me in a yogurt cup.

Comments

  1. Great Blog. I am so happy you moved to MT and married my nephew.

  2. Beautiful..

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