A Beautiful Moment
When I was in high school, I worked part-time helping Dad sell fruits and vegetables at a market. One day, as I was preparing the fruits, a little boy came by with his mum and sister. He was about eight years old, and the girl, five or six. They were looking at the fruits in front of me. I heard the kids say to their mum (in French), "They're good!" I knew it was French, because I can speak and understand it.
Then I noticed how the mum was picking the fruits. At first I thought she was really looking at the fruits because she was facing them, but then I noticed how much she had to feel and smell each one as she picked them out. And she often asked her son if it looked okay, but looked way above where his face was. Putting what I saw together, I was sure she was blind.
Both of the kids continued to help their mum pick out the fruits. The son made sure the fruits were not obviously bad, and the daughter handed them to her mum. The woman then felt each one and smiled, and the daughter would put them into their basket. The kids were smiling while helping their mum pick the fruits out.
Their smile and gentle manner moved me in a way that never happened before. It was so beautiful to see such young kids so willingly help. Most kids of that age would be picking out candies or toys in a store for themselves, instead of helping their mum pick out fruits, as the two kids did.
It was great to witness the moment, but not so great because I didn't tell the mum how beautiful her children were in their language. This is what I regret to this day.
