The Man in the Suit Stopped by the Market Stall.

The man in the suit paused by the market stall. His gaze was cool yet composed, fixed upon the rowdy young lad. Around them, the crowd held its breath. No one had dared to intervene before, but his presence shifted the air entirely.

“Enough,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “Put the bucket down.”

The troublemaker, startled for a moment, burst into laughter.

“And who might you be, mister fancy tie? Come to buy eggs, or play the hero?”

The man didnt flinch. Instead of answering straight away, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and drew out a leather wallet. He opened it slowly, took out a few thick banknotes, and placed them on the table before the old woman, who was still wiping her tears with the corner of her shawl.

“Mother,” he said respectfully, “Ill buy all your eggseven the broken ones. Your labour shouldnt be mocked.”

The crowd murmured. Some nodded approvingly, others shook their heads in disbelief.

The troublemaker, however, wasnt impressed.

“Ha! Think flashing your money makes you the big man here? I decide what happens in this market!”

He stepped forward threateningly, but the man in the suit met him with a single stride and, without raising his voice, said,

“One more move and youll regret it.”

There was a certainty in his eyes that disarmed the lad. For a second, the bully hesitatedthen, unwilling to lose face before the onlookers, he raised his hand to shove the bucket again.

In a swift motion, the man caught his wrist and squeezed. Not roughly, but enough to stop him.

“I said leave it be,” he repeated.

“Ow!” the lad yelped. “Let go, you madman!”

The crowd erupted in louder whispers. Some even clapped, relieved that someone had finally put the tyrant in his place.

The man released him and, with the same quiet authority, added,

“Walk away. And dont lay a finger on this womanor anyone else hereagain.”

The lad, red-faced with shame and fury, glanced around. The crowd no longer seemed indifferentnow they watched him with scorn and quiet satisfaction that hed been cornered at last. Feeling alone and unsupported, he muttered curses under his breath and slunk off between the stalls.

The market exhaled in relief.

The old woman, still trembling, approached the stranger.

“My boy I dont know who you are, but the Lord sent you to me today. Ive no power, no voiceand folk were too afraid”

Tears welled in her eyes again, but this time they were tears of gratitude.

The man placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“No need for tears, mother. The world must learn to respect the toil and hardship of humble folk. Ill do more than just buy your eggs.”

He turned to the crowd:

“Good people, we cannot stay silent when we see injustice! Any one of us could be in this womans place. Today its hertomorrow, it might be another. If we stand together, no bully will rule this market again.”

The crowd broke into applause. Some drew near the old woman, offering her coins, a loaf of bread, a handful of fruit. Others clasped her hands and murmured words of comfort.

The man paid for every eggeven the shattered onesand gave her far more than they were worth.

“Take this, mother. For medicine, for food. And dont weep anymore.”

She knelt, trying to kiss his hand, but he lifted her gently and said,

“Thank not me, but the Lord. I only did what was right.”

Then he took a calling card from his pocket and handed it to her.

“If anyone troubles you again, ring this number. Ill see youre looked after.”

The crowd slowly dispersed, but the talk lingered. The whole market buzzed about “the man in the suit” who had put the troublemaker in his place. The story passed from lip to lip, and for the first time in years, folk felt they had the right to say “no” to wrong.

The old woman walked home with slow steps, but her heart was lighter. Under her arm, she carried a sack filled with gifts from the crowd, and in her heart, she held endless gratitude. Her ailing husband waited, and now she could bring him not just bread and medicine, but news that kindness and justice still lived in the world.

That evening, in their modest cottage on the village edge, she told him everything. His weary eyes brightened as he listened.

“You see, wife,” he said, “the Lord does not forsake us. He sends good folk in times of trial.”

And for the first time in many months, hope warmed their home again.

As for the man in the suit, none knew exactly who he was. Some said he was a solicitor, others a merchant from the capital. But to all in the market, he remained “the stranger who set things right.”

And so, on an ordinary market day, the life of a poor old woman changed. Beyond the coins shed received, shed gained the respect of her neighbours and the proof she was not alone. And her tale, passed from mouth to mouth, stirred others to speak against wrongs, too.