Gobbling Up

 We all knew which line of people to be in. We all knew it might take some patience. We knew it was worth the wait. Ahead of me in the long queue was a family of five, two adults and three young children. The three children were tucked up close to their parents. Three children that already know that sometimes you have to wait quietly for good things. 

We were all waiting in that classic French market line to buy strawberries. Strawberries that taste like heaven. Strawberries that melt in your mouth. Strawberries picked this morning bursting with flavor. We advanced slowly as the customers ahead of us were served — after a little chitchat of course. Finally it was the families' turn. The mom ordered, paid the vendor and placed two berry baskets in her market bag. She then turned and handed a basket of strawberries to the tallest of the children. The little trio moved away from the market table to a quieter space among the Friday morning shoppers. The tallest child held out the basket to the littler ones. They each selected a bright red fruit and popped it in their mouth. From my place in line I could see their eyes light up. I couldn’t hear them, but I could see the yummmm. Little hands kept carefully reaching into the basket for seconds and thirds. Those were some happy children. By the time my strawberry basket was nestled in my market bag theirs was empty. I was so happy to know that they had more for later.

All this happened around 10:10 last Friday morning in Brantome. Finishing up my other purchases around 10:30 I could hear vendors saying - “I’m sorry I’m already sold out. I’m sorry you just missed the last basket. I’m sorry- there are so many more of you than we expected!”

There’s something to be said for the early bird getting the worm and patient children knowing the simple pleasure of a strawberry. And yes - the joy of gobbling some up right there in the middle of all those bustling grownups.