Sweetheart and I went to a local craft event last Saturday and set up our tent. He took the nativity sets he worked on all last winter and I took the three books I authored.
Since Nature does not respect time or place when she calls, I found myself in need of the facilities. It was a neat little restroom, as restrooms go—rustic, but containing all of the essentials—and definitely better than a porta potty.
Once in there, I discovered about 10 bars of soap—all shapes and sizes. I imagined that they were creations of one of the artisans who had set up at the show at one time or another. They were all so pretty and unique that I wanted to use them all. That meant that I would either have to spend a long time behind the closed door (and someone had already knocked on it), or use the facilities nine more times. Since we were only going to be there for four hours, I decided to go back to our stand and wait until the need arose again.
The soap that stood out was shaped like a tiny star and that’s the one I used first. However, a couple of hours later, I went back and used an odd-shaped bar. If you have time, I will try to explain what it was like. It was longer than it was wide, flat on the bottom and round (or, maybe I should say concave) on the top. Actually, I can’t be positive. It may have been flat on the top and rounded on the bottom.
The rest were, basically, squares or rectangles, and some of them were round, but I wondered if they had different fragrances. I was anxious to come back the next week to find out.
But, if I was looking for variety and uniqueness, all I had to do was go back to our tent and watch the customers as they meandered among the tables, surveying the wares. The customers were different shapes and sizes and colors. They wore a wide variety of styles of clothing—even extending to the masks they were wearing. It was a lovely display of humanity. Everybody was different, but peacefully assembled for a common purpose.
How boring it would be to live and work with people who all looked the same and dressed the same and thought the same and behaved the same. Yet, we all have the same basic needs—for food/water, shelter and security. Are people the same, more than they are different?
I believe Fred Rogers, of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, said it best in the little ditty he used to sing on his TV program:
“Everybody’s fancy. Everybody’s fine. Your body’s fancy and so is mine.”
I’m anxious to check it all out again next Saturday—the soaps and the people.
Dorothy has recently published a book, “Miles and Miracles”, and it can be purchased on Amazon and Kindle, and is now available at 512 Main in Knox, PA. Her email address is: email@example.com