In my country the custom of street coffee sales is maintained. It is very easy to find someone on the street with a big thermos of coffee offering their product in small plastic cups and at a very cheap price.
Most of these vendors are concentrated in places where there are many people, such as bus stops, plazas, markets and health centers.
This abundant and inexpensive supply of coffee has made it possible to maintain over time the beautiful custom of buying coffee from a stranger.
Throughout my life I have always bought coffee from strangers.
One of those times that I remember with great affection was when my first son was born, forty-seven years ago.
That day I was very nervous waiting for the moment of delivery in the maternity ward. I could not be near my wife but had to be outside the maternity ward, in the street.
Every now and then a lady would pass by with a big thermos of coffee, the best drink to calm my nerves in situations like that. Every time the lady passed by I would buy her a small coffee and if someone was nearby I would invite them to have coffee with me. It was a way to feel company in such an important moment of life. That day I bought coffee for a large number of strangers.
During the time I worked as a teacher I also kept the habit of giving coffee to students I did not know.
Every morning, before classes started, I would go to the canteen of the high school. There was always a student there and the first one I saw, I would ask him if he wanted a coffee. The boys were very happy that one of the teachers was kind enough to give them a coffee. The look of joy on the boys' faces when they received that coffee as a gift would stay with me throughout the morning. It was the best way I found to start a great day.
Recently something very nice happened to me. Sometimes when I passed by the bakery near my house I would see a lady sitting on the sidewalk. Nothing unusual because it is very close to the bus stop and there are always people waiting.
I would walk by and see the lady. She caught my attention because she is almost my age, about seventy years old. In my neighborhood it is not common to see older people sitting on the street.
One day when I was out shopping, the lady called me and asked me if I could give her a loaf of bread. I really didn't expect that question, because that lady didn't look like a homeless person at all. On the contrary, she always walks very clean, as if she was coming out of the shower, well groomed, with make-up on her face, with necklaces, long sleeve shirt and bluejean vest, very much in the style of the sixties.
That situation was repeated several times, I would leave the bakery, she would ask me for a loaf of bread, I would go back to buy her a big loaf of bread, and I would go on my way. But I was very intrigued by that lady.
One day I made up my mind and asked her if she wanted to have a coffee. I bought her the loaf of bread and a small black coffee.
I sat down with her on the sidewalk, I couldn't resist and went straight to the point, I asked her why she asked for bread, if she didn't have enough to buy it.
Very kindly she answered me yes and no. She told me that sometimes she had enough to buy bread. That sometimes she had enough to buy it and sometimes she didn't. And what she said next left me speechless. And what she said next really surprised me. In the most natural way the lady told me that the main reason for asking for bread was not economic, she sat every afternoon on the sidewalk of the bakery to feel company. And she would entertain herself by asking for bread and watching the answers each person gave.
After that afternoon, every time I see the lady sitting on the sidewalk, I sit with her for a small coffee. I now know that her name is Monica, that she lives in a neighborhood about a kilometer from the bakery.
Like many elderly people in our country, Monica is living alone. Her daughters and grandchildren emigrated to Peru two years ago. This issue of loneliness has hit her hard, but she promised herself that she would overcome it.
So some afternoons she walks from her house to the sidewalk in front of the bakery, and sits for a while to distract herself with the bustle of people getting off the buses. Occasionally he is provoked and asks anyone for a loaf of bread. With that he entertains himself until sunset when he returns home.
Monica's decision seems to me to be a very intelligent one, she has found a way to get ahead.
Many times I think that if I had not given her that coffee I would not have met her, and I would not have known that we are part of a common history. My children are not with me either, they also emigrated out of the country.
To offer a coffee to a stranger can be an excellent way to start a friendship.
I am making this publication in response to the initiative proposed by the friends of the Cinnamon Cup Coffee community, in its part number one. For more information click on the following link.
Thank you for your time.
Images edited in Photoshop.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
