The little things

It's the smallest of things, that can have the greatest impact at times.

I was reminded of this, last Sunday.

While at the "Flea" ( Ceasar Creek Flea Market) selling those wonderful nuts that we make. A very timid, elderly woman approached my counter saying "Excuse me ma'am, but are you, by any chance, the same nut vendor that use to be in that location?", as she pointed to a booth just down the aisle from me. I said sure, but that was a few years ago. It was then that I noticed a wonderful smile spread across her face, that just beamed. And she proceeded with "You probably won't remember me, but.... and she then went on to tell the events of a day at the Flea, two and a half years ago. I just gasped and said "Yes, yes! I remember you!

It all started with a very hot day. The Flea was booming with crowds of people. And their were new vendors next to me that day. You see, some vendors are permanant, some just come to sell their wares for the weekend. Anyhow, I introduced myself and looked over their items for sale. Mainly clothes, and odds and ends. And as the day went on, we chatted about little things, like where were the best food booths and such. But the business of the day is keeping focused on the customers, and selling. And we did.

Later in the afternoon, I heard the eldery woman calling out, her husbands name, and it got louder, above the noise of the crowd. I rushed to the side of my booth and their was her husband slumped over just about to fall to the pavement, when I reached over a small fence that separated our areas, and grabbed him and steadied him on the chair. The rest is more like a blur, but I remember the lady saying he had heart problems. I knew a little about such things and asked if he had Nitro pills, yes was her response, I held his head up so she could give him the pills.

Here I was, on my tip toes bent over a fence holding this mans head, talking to him to get him to respond. I couldnt let go or he would surely fall and hit his head. I tried to do what I could. Loosening his shirt collar, etc. without loosing my hold on him. By now vendors had contacted security and the EMT's and they were there in just minutes. I explained what all had taken place.
He was placed in the ambulance and whisked away to the hospital, his wife in tow.

Wow, what a wild experience. But here it is at the end of the day and vendors are closing up their areas. I see the elderly couples wares, still where they left them. As if it is some unspoken code of vendors I do believe, a few of us, carefully packed up their things and put them away on their trailer, tarping it just in case of rain.

I always wondered what had happened to the nice elderly man. And now I was going to find out.

This woman told me that he had a heart attack and been dead for 6 minutes, before they revived him in the ambulance. He survived but continued to have medical problems following this attack. We chatted a little more and she explained that she had not been back to the Flea since then, until today.

Then is when the most impacting thing I had experienced in a long time unfolded. You see, she had stopped by to see me, and to thank me. Thank me? I thought. I was just a helping hand in the events of that day.

And as I stood their looking at this smile on the womans face, two younger ladies walked up to us. She said to them, "Let me introduce you to the lady that helped your father, the day he had his heart attack at the Flea Market." This young woman , with her daughter at her side, thanked me so much for being there to help her father, and they were all grateful to still have him and expressed that I was part of the reason for that. The mans daughter showed me a picture on her cell phone of the two of them hugging. I was almost in tears by now and speechless. The three woman, saying thanks once again, wished me well and went on their way.

I stood there for a few minutes longer, still speechless. When it  came to mind that  this woman wasn't sure if I would remember her or her husband, all the while I was so shocked that she remembered me.

It's the little things, isn't it? That get you.