A Flea Market and a Bag Lady

I went to a flea market Saturday. It was my first time, that's why I went, because I'd never gone to one before. 

My former self would never have gone to look at other people's junk or spend 3 hours walking around in sweltering heat surrounded by people I didn't know or have any desire to be around. My former self felt much more comfortable inside, not outside.

It was huge... Thousands of people, I kid you not. It is sort of comforting, that alone feeling you get when you're surrounded by so many people. That odd sensation used to feel kind of forlorn and empty to me not that long ago. It doesn't feel like that anymore though. It's fun to watch all those people and wonder who they really are. And to wonder if they even know who they really are. 

I went with my hubby, my sister and a niece and nephew, five of us. I also decided to unplug and take very little money. My goal wasn't to buy anything, just to observe and experience something that I used to say I'd never be caught dead doing. 

After about an hour or so, I somehow lost everyone. No phone, $5 in my pocket, no ID. It was perfect. I was truly anonymous! I walked around looking for my cohorts for a bit and then decided to sit on the bleachers to wait for them, the port-a-potties were right there. Surely they'd look for me here or have to go to the bathroom eventually. So I parked myself on the bleachers with a bottle of water my sister gave me and started people watching. 

I was sitting on the top bench of the bleachers and a rather well-to-do older lady came and sat on the seat just below me. She was also by herself. Her clothes were perfect, her grey hair perfectly coiffed, a designer leather bag, expensive shoes, pearl earrings. She ate her fish and chips with the plastic fork and every time she brought it to her mouth, her face winced a little. Like the thought of putting a plastic utensil to her mouth was the most disgusting thing she'd ever done. She made me laugh inside at how ridiculous she was. But she didn't know, she was very well ensconced in her little bubble of control.

After about 15 minutes or so, I saw this bag lady coming towards us. She was dragging two full garbage bags and had another couple thrown over her shoulder. She was also up there in age, 60's maybe or late 50's, it was hard to tell. She was filthy... She had on a thin pink t-shirt that was so worn there were worn holes on it everywhere. No bra, you couldn't help see where the boobs hung to her waist. Her hair was short and she clearly hadn't washed it in quite some time. Her face even had strange looking red splotches and those white calcium bumps all around her eyes. 

As she stumbled her way towards the garbage can, that was right beside me and the uppity lady, she was walking with purpose. Her goal was that garbage can and she wasn't focused on anything else. She didn't see anybody. I felt a twinge of respect for her for in that moment, somewhere deep inside, because she just didn't give a fuck what other people thought.

As she reached the garbage can, uppity lady finally spotted her and did that whole slide a little further down the bleacher bench away from her thing. I rolled my eyes on the inside and decided the bag lady deserved my attention more than this lady in her finery did. And so I watched her.

My niece had commented earlier that they didn't have any recycle bins anywhere for the plastic bottles or cans so everyone was just throwing them in the garbage cans. I should have guessed that was what bag lady was doing based on the two full bags she was carrying with her but I figured it out soon enough.

I watched her go through that garbage can for at least 10 minutes. She was thorough. The whole time, she didn't look up or acknowledge anyone. She was on a mission. She emptied the cans and bottles as she found them. She dug all the way to the bottom. No gloves, no disgust. Nothing but shear determination. She was covered in gravy and ketchup all the way to her armpits! And not once did she flinch.

As she was finishing up, I realized that she had just accomplished in 10 minutes more to help Mother Earth than I have done in my entire life. And it hit me right in the heart. I looked at her closely and saw the strength in her. Yes, I understood that she was doing it for the money so maybe she could buy herself a bottle later. I also understood the amazing service she was performing for a planet full of people who generally don't give a shit. I chose not to judge her for the former and to thank her for the latter. 

I fished out the $5 I had on me, finished off the bottle of water and reached out to give her both. She took the bottle and put it in the garbage bag but didn't take the money. So I said, "Excuse me..." and she looked up at me. I held out the $5 and said, "I'd like you to have this. Thank you for doing this, you're a blessing to Mother Earth and I just want to thank you for that." She seemed genuinely surprised! And she smiled at me and took the money. I chuckled inside at the fact she was literally toothless, how perfect is that? And I smiled back. We shared a really nice little moment there and it felt really good.

As she walked away, the uppity lady in front turned around and gave me this half-sneered look as if to say, "What the hell did you give her money for?" And I looked at her, quite seriously, smiled and said, "Hey, she's a stronger woman than I'll ever be, she earned it and she deserves as much respect as anyone else does." She gave me the strangest look and then just turned back around without saying another word. I have no idea what was going through her mind but I hope it jostles her compassion a little, I'm sure it's still in there somewhere wanting to come out.

After another few minutes I decided to try and locate my lost tribe and made my way back to the parking area. 

I've though a great deal about that bag lady in the last few days. She touched my soul, for real. She's not interested in telling her story but her story had a positive effect on me and I'm honoured and very grateful for having seen her that day and for the opportunity to share it here.