But the days, they are flying by. And I, I am moving slowly. I can now see the light at the end of the morning sickness tunnel, I hope. But for now, I wake and work and play and sleep. Repeat.
So today, instead of trying to find something profound out of some silly experience, I wanted to leave you with this. The story hasn’t left my mind since I read it.
In a shady corner of the great market in Mexico City was an old Indian named Pota-lamo. Ha had twenty strings of onions hanging in front of him.
An American from Chicago came up and said:
“How much for a string of onions?”
“Ten cents,” said Pato-lamo.
“How much for two strings?”
“Twenty cents,” was the reply.
“How much for three strings?”
“Thirty cents, “was the answer.
“Not much reduction in that,” said the American. “Would you take twenty-five cents?”
“No,” said the Indian.
“How much for your whole twenty strings?” said the American.
“I would not sell you my twenty strings,” replied the Indian.
“Why not?” said the American. “Aren’t you here to sell your onions?”
“No,” replied the Indian. “I am here to live my life. I love this market place. I love the crowds and the red serapes. I love the sunlight and the waving palmettos. I love to have Pedro and Luis come by and say: “Buenas dias” … and talk about the babies and the crops. I love to see my friends. This is my life. For that I sit here all day and sell my twenty strings of onions. But if I sell all my onions to one customer, then is my day ended. I have lost my life that I love – that I will not do.”
The story speaks a lot about living life in such a way that values community over commerce, and seems a more Christian way of life than we are living ours.
Excerpt from Seeing What is Sacred, by Ken Gire
Oh, and I thought I should leave you with this as well:
Baby waved hello today.