Once, I Witnessed a Conversation Between Our Shop Owner and a Scrawny Teenager Dressed in Worn-Out Clothes.

I once saw a chat between the owner of our little corner shop in a Yorkshire village and a skinny teenager. The lad was dressed in threadbare, but tidy clothes. He stood at the jam shelf, eyeing a jar of strawberry jam, when the shopkeeper, Joe, came over.

Good morning, Steve, howre you doing?
Thanks, sir, not too bad
Hows your mum? Is she back at work yet?
No, shes still at home feeling ill
Thought you wanted to buy some jam?
Im just looking. Mum loves strawberry jam, but we dont have the cash to buy it.
Then hand over that bracelet you made yourself. You braided it, didnt you?

On his wrist was a homemade bracelet woven from multicoloured telephone cords.

Yes, sir, but itll be too small for you.
Ill buy it for my nephew. What do you say?
I dont think Ill get enough for it
Exactly the same amount as that jar of jam. It must have taken you ages to work out those intricate patterns!
It kept me busy for three nights
So its settled then. The bracelets mine, the jams yours or rather, yours and my wifes!
Thank you, youre very kind.

The happy teen grinned, grabbed the jam, slipped the bracelet off his wrist and handed it to the shopkeeper.

Have a lovely day, sir!
Well see you later, Steve!

Molly, Joes wife, was at the till and watched the exchange with a smile. When she noticed my surprised look, she explained:

A few more teenagers will come in later; their families are too poor to afford decent food, but Joe tries to help them by buying what the boys can manage. Once he even asked me to sell him a slingshot, and he paid with a stick of good quality sausage

Leaving the shop, I was struck by Joes generosity. It never occurred to me that the man who always weighed his merchandise to the gram, adjusting the scales when the needle nudged a bit high, could be so compassionate toward struggling families.

Joe was wellknown in our neighbourhood; his shop was a favourite. When customers came in, Joe and Molly always asked how they were getting on, kept a cheery disposition, and tried to serve everyone as quickly as possible.

It wasnt long before twelve years slipped by like water. Joe grew old and passed away At his funeral many people turned up. Among them stood three sergeants, standing apart at first, then moving up to his widow, gently kissing her hand and offering words of condolence.

They were the very lads Joe had supported. When I said my goodbyes, I saw a few childrens trinkets in the coffin, including that same bracelet, the one that had taught me about a shopkeepers genuine, tactful kindness. He understood that the boys would grow into men, and he gave them more than food he gave them a glimpse of honest trade.