Memories of the Vegetable Guy

When I was a kid there used to be a guy who would come down the street with a cart selling vegetables.  He was always smiling, always friendly.  Whenever we saw him coming all the kids would come out and walk with him as he told jokes or small stories.  Women would come out of their houses and buy the vegetables and I'd marvel at his ease with people.  He had such a lighthearted way about him.  I've never met a person so content. 

I haven't thought about him in thirty-five years.

Today I read a story on The American Sentimentalist about a similar person.  Do yourself a favor and click on the link and read:

But who has time for the sharpening guy? (thoughts on an Old World moment in a New World diaspora)

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