It’s stupid to ask for that one constant thing in this world of shifting sands…
A story was told about an Andalusian girl who works in an antique shop somewhere in the dry region of Southern Spain. Her name is Martha. This is her story… along with the relics that surround her fragile world.
Everyday she goes about her routine – carefully wiping every piece of priceless artifact made more valuable through time. This she does with extreme cautiousness. She needs to be very careful since the pieces of stuff around her have been in this earth centuries even before she was born.
A simple yet elegant vase on the last shelf in one corner of the room was her favorite. A day won’t come to pass without her sweet strokes and mild caresses touching its fragile exterior from its mouth to the base. This vase never loses its luminescence and elegance because of the love and attention that Martha gives to it.
Many times, the vase nearly falls from its place in the shelf. Good thing Martha is always within the proximity to save the vase from its fateful end. Martha loves the vase. And the mere thought of losing it gives her heaves of sigh. She nearly cries every time she thinks of it.
Martha’s worst nightmare had finally morphed into reality. Caderousse, the store owner, approached Martha. His news was shocking. Martha was stunned. She was fired from her job for no apparent reason at all. She cried. Martha just lost the job that she dearly loves.
“Please Señor Caderousse… I can’t afford to lose this job. All my life I’ve been doing this job. This is my life. I’m begging you Señor Caderousse… Please let me stay,” Martha was on her knees. But Caderousse didn’t budge. His heart was as hard as stone. “Leave now and never come back,” he adamantly, but coldly, answered. Martha had no choice. She left.
Before finally leaving the antique shop which she considered her home and refuge for such a long time, she stopped by to have a final glimpse of the vase at the corner of the shop. She cried her last beside the vase that she loves so deeply. Her cuddle was so tight; a child could have been suffocated at the grip of her warm embrace. Her tears fell on the surface of the vase.
“Can I take this vase with me, Señor Caderousse?” “No. You have to earn a fortune for you to afford that!” was Caderousse’s cold reply. She then left without a word. But tears flooded her eyes.
Martha made it a point to drop by at the antique shop and spend some stolen time with her favorite vase. Everyday she would visit the vase at the corner of the room as if it was her child. But Caderousse would always drive her out of his antique shop. It hurts her every time.
Months passed and Martha was hired at an antique shop in the neighboring town. Inevitable it might be, because Martha soon became preoccupied with her new job. And she soon got used to not seeing her favorite vase. She also grew tired of Caderousse’s rejection. She then found another lovely antique in the shop that she is working in, a gold plated jar with silver lining in its outlines. Elegant. As elegant as the vase that she used to venerate.
Meanwhile, the vase at Caderousse’s shop lost its elegance and splendor. The elegant vase that used to sit in simple and sheer magnificence at the corner of the antique shop is now covered with dust and dirt. No more Martha to show love and affection. The vase lost its value. Pathetic.
Martha’s attention was diverted to the new vase that had drawn her attention. It became beautiful with every touch and caress. It was adorable. Martha soon forgot about her once-favorite vase at Caderousse’s shop.
Something dreadful happened at Caderousse’s shop. A Chinese merchant went to the antique shop. While clumsily examining every piece of artifact in the shelves, the Chinese merchant accidentally elbowed out the pathetic vase from where it recline…
Did it fall to pieces? Did it break? Who cares? Martha doesn’t care.
