The Fruit Stand

The Fruit Stand

Going northbound on RT 322,

it was on the right,

before the village,

known as the Cloister.

Fruits and vegetables,

you could smell their freshness,

next to the farm they came from.

I especially liked the cantelopes.

A young Mennonite woman working,

something different here,

a lifestyle of peace and love –

internal quiet,

and external kindness.

We made our choices,

plastic bags and money,

then we noticed her younger brother.

He had a bike and a smirk,

on his face, he shook his head,

like “these crazy tourists”.

I wanted to yell,

“What is wrong with you!”

“Love and hate in the same family?”

“How can you not love people,

of another color?”

I didn’t say it though,

biting my tongue.

He was just a kid,

so I let it go.

Besides – I was hoping

he would learn

from his big sister.

 

 

© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

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