The happiest woman at the grocery store

Today on my lunch hour I stopped by the Hartman’s YIG at Bank and Somerset to buy a lime, plum tomatoes, ACE bread and dark chocolate. (One of the best things about living alone is you can have whatever you want for dinner.)

I saw the happiest woman at the grocery store. She might even be the happiest woman in all of Ottawa.

I spotted her immediately, as soon as I entered the store. She was magnetic.

“Who is that happy old woman dancing by the salad?” I asked myself.

She was very old – so old that old people would probably describe her as old. Her old spine had curved so that she could no longer stand up straight: she was hunched over and she had to look down at the floor. But she was dancing. Dancing! And conducting an orchestra!

There was a classical guitar player at Hartman’s today, and he had a special guest, a drummer. Sometimes there’s a piano player instead, but today was the classical guitarist. The old woman danced to the music, and she was radiant and joyful and oblivious to everything except the music.

And about half the people were oblivious to her, while the other half were enchanted by her. I felt a little sorry for those who couldn’t see her.

I took some pictures and then I wandered through the aisles, gathering my plum tomatoes and ACE bread and lime and chocolate. On the way out, I saw her give the musicians some change, and then she moved on, still dancing to the music and smiling at the floor. She was lovely.