3 cents

Stranger’s gifts

I was running late, as the first of september calls for. A few bags on my back were dragging me slower. I had 50€, I needed 3 cents.

What could I possibly need for 3 cents? Not to buy anything, that’s for sure. Not to throw in a fountain, since one cent would do.

I needed 3 cents.

Such a magical number (it was actually 0.025, but who’s counting?). I ran to a bar, CLOSED, it is still the beginning of September. I ran to a supermarket, they didn’t want to help me. I ran down the street, a fruit shopkeeper (is that how you call them?) was slowly talking to a woman about the difference between a caluma and something else. I didn’t want to interrupt the intellectually mundane conversation they were having. After a couple minutes and a couple glances at my newly bought in London and fraudulent watch (it’s plastic, not metal like the watchmaker promised). I cut into the dialogue and explained my case.

He shaked his head. Business had been slow, it was the first day after all, and he didn’t have change for a 50. Defeated I left. He called and said:

“How much do you need?”

“3 cents”

“Here you are.”

As a hand held out three coins and a smile.

“I’ll be back one day”

As I returned the smile and thanked him infinitely.

Then, me and my three bags ran back to use the best 3 cents I had ever held. Those that came from a kind and gentle soul that made my week, and inspired this text.