Mary's Path

There was a thin layer of dust on the bench and the air felt old. Mary started to clean the store. Her father would never open the store if it wasn’t in order and tidy and she wouldn’t either. It was about pride, Mary thought.

When the little shop looked clean and nice, she went upstairs again. She put new firewood on the fire and picked up the stool and placed it by one of the walls. She stood on it and reached up. Her hand felt along the wall, it felt cool and smooth. Her fingers felt their way until they found the little notch. There was the key to the little box that stood under the bench in the kitchen. Mary took the key and went downstairs and opened the box.

Wrapped in fabric and straw were her father’s finished works. Carefully she carried the items out to the store and placed them as her father used to place them. When she was satisfied, she walked up to the door and opened it and stepped out into the street in front of the store. She opened the shutters that covered the windows and let the sunshine into the store.

She went back inside and sat on the stool behind the counter and waited for her first customer. She was nervous that no one would come, they were perhaps too afraid of the sickness that her parents had.

Everyone knew that not many people survived when they got the sickness. Her parents would be fine, Mary knew that. They had her taking care of them. All those other people who hadn’t made it must have been alone, or maybe the whole family would have gotten sick. Mary was convinced that was the case.

What bothered her the most was that she hadn’t been to church for two Sundays. She couldn’t leave her parents alone for that long. This was something she often worried about. The priest used to say that God took care of those who loved him, he had also said that those who didn’t go to church on Sundays did not love God. So, what if God thought Mary didn’t love him and didn’t help her? Mary needed God’s help to make her parents healthy, she knew that.

But Mary had had a little worship service at home, not as nice as the one in the church, but a small one. Mary didn’t know the old language, so she couldn’t say any of the nice things that the priests always talked about when they were up there in the church. But she had prayed to God for a long time, and she had told of all the things she had done that were sinful, and in the end, she had asked God to save her parents.

But she was still afraid that God would not understand, perhaps God didn’t even hear prayers when one was small and insignificant. Perhaps God only heard prayers from the rich and the important.

Mary’s thoughts were interrupted when a man came through the door. He blocked the sun shining through the doorway and seemed hesitant to enter. Although Mary only saw him as a black silhouette, she knew who he was.

“Good morning, Mr. Sansi,” she hurried to say, rising from the stool. She just reached over the high counter and thought for a moment about standing on the stool. She changed her mind and instead chose to approach the man who was standing just inside the door. “Can I help you?” she asked, stopping a short distance from him. She had had a good upbringing and knew how to treat clients who were in the upper classes of society.

Mr. Sansi was a regular customer of her father, and she was glad he had arrived today, he rarely left the store without buying anything.

“Where’s your father?” he asked, looking at Mary.

“He’s been sick and resting, Mr. Sansi.” Mary replied.

“And your mother?”

“She too has been sick Mr. Sansi. But they are both on the mend.” Mary hurried to add.

“I understand. So, you’re in charge of the store today,” Mr. Sansi said.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve been here a couple of times in the last few weeks hoping it would be open. I was pleased when I saw that it was open today. But I don’t know if I should do business with you, you’re just a child.” he said, looking around the store. Mary thought he was looking extra closely at a beer top with a beautifully decorated lid. If she sold it, she would be able to buy both meat and vegetables, Mary thought.

“The gentleman is absolutely right that I’m just a child but it’s not me that you would do business with it’s my father.” she said cautiously. “I will just be the one to accept the payment. All the items are still made by my father, it’s his craftmanship sir”. Mr. Sansi looked at her again.

“How long have you been taking care of your parents?” he asked.

“For two weeks, sir,” she replied.

“For two weeks, you say, “he seemed to be thinking. “I might buy one of your father’s pieces, but I don’t feel like going further into the store and exposing myself more to the risk of contracting the sickness. What do you recommend I buy from your father?”

Mary felt her heart take a leap. She turned around and walked towards the objects. She knew he wanted the beer top. But it was one of the most expensive items in the store, would it seem desperate if she showed him that, should she choose something else? She hesitated for a moment before taking up a piece of cloth and wrapping around the top before heading back towards Mr. Sansi.

“This is a very well-made beer top.” she said, unfurled the fabric so he could see it. She made sure the object caught the sunlight falling through the windows. “As the gentleman can see, it’s decorated with leaves and at the sides it’s wonderfully beautiful hunting scenes,” she said, tilting and turning the top before reaching it toward him.

Mr. Sansi carefully received the stop and scrutinized it carefully. Mary was terribly nervous that he would give back the stop and leave. She needed the money, she had to sell at least some small item to Mr. Sansi. After reviewing the top, he turned to Mary.

“How much?” Her heart stopped beating, her brain worked feverishly.

“12 kresi sir,” she replied.

“12 kresi, it wasn’t cheap,” he said earnestly. “I can give you 7 kresi.” It was a lot of money, but the top was worth more, Mary knew that. Her father had written 10 kresi in the logbook, it could be enough for almost two kilograms of meat.

But she also knew that this was how it was done to do business, her father had taught her that whoever sold something always asked for too much and the one who bought always offered too little. In the end, a reasonable price was reached.

Mary entered the haggling with enthusiasm. In the end, she said;

“The gentleman is very friendly, but I can’t lower the price anymore, possibly I could lower your price to 10 kresi and 5 vorm. Just because it’s you sir, and because I know my father appreciates your business.”

“10 kresi and 5 vorm, yes that’s a price I can live with. It’s settled,” Mr. Sansi said, reaching out to her. Mary smiled and shook his hand.

“Does you want me to wrap the top sir?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied, waiting in his place in the door while Mary walked up to the counter and picked up a small wooden box. She put some straw in the wooden box, wrapped the beer top in the piece of cloth she was holding it in and put it in the hay. After that, she nailed the lid to the small wooden box.

She picked up 5 vorm to be able to change with. When she took the 5 vorm out of the money purse, there were only 7 vorm left. But soon, she thought, there would be more money there. She went up to Mr. Sansi and gave him the wooden box.

“It will be 10 kresi and 5 vorm sir,” she said. Mr. Sansi smiled down at her and put 11 kresi in her hand before taking the box from her.

“One moment, you’ll get your 5 vorm, sir” she said, showing her hand in her pocket to pick up the coins.

“Keep them my friend, I have received a beautiful top that will spread envy among my friends, and I have had the pleasure of doing business with a very wise little girl. You’ve earned a little extra,” he replied, smiling. “Give my regards to your father and tell him I hope to do business with him in person soon.”

“Thank you very much sir,” said Mary, and curtsy as nicely as she could. “I will relay your greetings to him.”

“It’s time for me to go, I hope we meet again my friend,” Mr. Sansi said, turning around and walking out the door.

“Goodbye sir and God bless you,” said Mary and curtsy once again. She went back into the store and put the money in the money bag that was behind the counter. It felt heavier and pleasantly full when she closed it again.

She quickly went out into the kitchen and picked up the small stool they used to milk their goats. It was just high enough for Mary to use behind the counter. If she was standing on the small stool, she reached over the counter and yet it was not so high that she needed to climb on it.

She looked up her father’s logbook and looked up the beer top in there. It said he expected to be able to sell it for 10 kresi. Mary took out the ink and pen and wrote down that the money received was 11 kresi.

She was very proud when she closed the book. Not everyone could read and write. Her friends couldn’t, not even Erik, who was two years older than her and who was better than her at almost everything. But Mary’s father could, and he had taught her. He said it was important if she would help out in the store. Mary’s mother could neither read nor write, both Mary and her father had tried to teach her, but she had never learned. Mary sat on the high stool behind the counter again and waited.