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The old man and the eggs
He has white hair. His face and neck are wrinkled. He is probably over 80 years old. The man is old.
He looks at me with sparkling eyes, children's eyes.
The old one is young. The old man seems to have aged well. Perhaps he feels a lot of gratitude and immense joy at having been able to reach this venerable age, despite and with all that life has brought him? Who knows?
He quickly gets up from his armchair and comes to meet me with a slow but solid gait. He smiled at me.
His hands, swarthy, with tapered fingers, come to fetch mine, all gently.
"It gives me an immense pleasure to welcome you, Pixie. My name is Thierry. I see that you are wearing the clothes left for you in your room. You are magnificent."
Indeed, there was a small note on a pile of well-folded clothes, arranged on a loveseat that was in front of a fireplace, in this huge and luxurious bedroom.
Here is what was written: "Good morning, Pixie. These clothes should suit you for all the small projects of the day. Beautiful moments are coming."
And here I am dressed in a long vintage overall, pale blue in jeans, a white T-shirt, gray espadrilles decorated with multicolored eggs. The whole reflects a certain style, especially since a straw hat with delicate ribbons, completes the whole ... What more can I say?
The living room, like the bedroom, is imbued with luxury.
"Come, my dear. Let's go to the balcony."
A huge balcony, lined with short stone columns, offers a panorama as far as the eye can see: hills, all kinds of trees, greenery, fields of flowers. No other houses... And, as amazing as it may be, a mini-amusement park that blends into the surrounding nature...
Obviously, it is hard to hide my surprise... besides, why would I hide it?
I look at Thierry, he smiles at me. "Wait. The best is yet to come."
In this sunny morning, still a little cool, children appear, in small groups or alone, through this bucolic landscape. All head to the mini park. They dance, laugh, play with each other.
"Associate yourself with those who enjoy life, and who have joy in their eyes," wrote Paulo Coelho.
If I could see the joy now, I am sure that not only would it cover everything I can see, but it would also have seeped into every atom of everything around me.
The old man is cheerful. His eyes embrace everything he sees, they are greedy with joy.
"I live with joy. I seek joy, I am not conquering happiness. When I met Mya, my partner, she was selling eggs in a small market on an island where I was doing business. When my gaze crossed hers, it was like a spell. My childhood with a difficult mother and all that followed, my work, my environment, had not prepared me at all for such a moment – quite the contrary.
Mya had green eyes, swarthy skin resplendent with health, unique and magnificent features, from a clever mix of nature, a radiant and benevolent smile.
I bought her eggs, without needing them... And I saw, near his stall, other eggs that were decorated. Sitting on the floor, children, both serious and cheerful, were busy decorating others.
Mya said, "I don't know all these kids. What I do know is that everyone feels joy in decorating these eggs and seeing the result. I also give them little tricks, I encourage them."
She continued to smile, while talking with her melodious voice.
"It's my way of giving back the love I received from my grandmother and creating little bubbles of joy that will eventually multiply."
I did not answer anything. I did not know what to say... I left. Children, eggs, joy... Not really what interested me the most...
But her... I kept thinking about her. Despite this, I left the island only to return a few months later. My first step: the market. She was there, so were the children.
I could not help but court her: I knew where she lived, I visited her several times under the supervision of her grandmother (and children who followed us everywhere); we walked, chatted, laughed, listened to the birds singing, admired sunsets, and decorated eggs. Those she decorated, she sold at the market, especially to tourists; she was truly an artist. Those whom the children decorated, they kept them to themselves, witnesses of moments of joy.
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The presence of these two loving women did me the greatest good. I continued to take care of my businesses and went back to see Mya and her grandmother as often as possible.
The grandmother died suddenly, leaving her little house and chickens to Mya as an inheritance. Of course, Mya was saddened by the loss of her grandmother, but in her culture, death is welcomed with celebration and joy – which I did not really understand.
Mya and I wanted to live together. However, some challenges awaited us. What to do with the small house and chickens? What activity could bring a little joy to the children, without the presence of Mya? Where could we live together?
And as often happens, life exercises its magic when it is time. Events followed one another perfectly.
I was able to buy an estate of a few acres, close to the small house. What you see today, is a replica, but more sophisticated of what Mya and I owned at the time. We kept the hens, Mya went to the market, and the children continued to surround her by decorating their eggs. It is really fascinating how simple things, like decorating an egg, can bring moments of joy, of sharing.
On our small estate, we built small wooden shelters, under which tables were installed. Eggs and all kinds of things to decorate them were laid there. We have created a space for joy, not only for ourselves, but also for many others, young and old.
A few years ago, Mya, like her grandmother, left suddenly. I cannot tell you how immense my sadness has been. I could no longer see joy in others, I could no longer experience it myself. I could not welcome this departure with celebration and joy, as in Mya’s culture.
But time has done its work, but it has taken its time, time...
I had the opportunity to come and settle here but, before that, I took great care to entrust what Mya and I had built to people who, when they had been young, had been contaminated, in a way, by these moments of joy, in the company of Mya. They understood well how to find joy in all the simple things, which fill our daily lives, which always surround us.
I found the joy of giving joy, or at least trying to create spaces for joy."
After a few minutes of silence, he looks at me with benevolent eyes and asks, "Are you hungry?"
Following my positive response, we headed to the park. I see rides, swings, water games, colorful scenes for shows, marquees, trails to explore, small canteens, places for DIY (among others, for egg decoration, of course)... Everything shines with cleanliness, bright colors. The music is joyful, vibrant with energy, but also soft, not thunderous. Everything is placed harmoniously.
We sit near one of the canteens. The food is excellent. It is as if the flavors harmonize with the joyful atmosphere.
Thierry and I start walking around. I enjoy a few rides. I am having fun like a child. There are jugglers, clowns, magicians. We see children walking around with balloons, others happily looking for eggs hidden in the park.
We are witnessing a show of dancing eggs. All the spectators dance with them, and so do I.
Everywhere, there are banners on which are written quotes or proverbs related to eggs.
Everywhere, there are banners on which are written quotes or proverbs related to eggs.
Under a marquee, I admire huge photographs of eggs decorated by children... It is pretty, the whole forms a soothing whole.
In a cart, Thierry and I take a path that leads us to a wooded area in which I see unusual trees, covered with broken eggs. There is also a flowering egg bed. Diverse kinds of trees grow in huge carved stone eggs. I had seen an incredibly special vegetation during my visit to the decorator: I had been amazed and now, I am just as amazed...
We return to the rides. Of course, this day, already well advanced, cannot end without us decorating eggs. And here we are sitting, with children, in front of all the necessary equipment to change, according to our fantasy, the appearance of eggs. The results are varied: an opening to an infinity of possibilities.
Thierry is having fun. While tinkering, he explains some symbols of the egg, talks about the multiple forms of eggs that exist, lists artists inspired by eggs. He recites a few poems and nursery rhymes (not to mention Humpty Dumpty’s one, of course). I even learn that the Salvator Dali Museum (Figueres, Spain) is adorned with monumental eggs: a most unexpected architecture.
The sun quietly losing its shine, my host invites me to return to his home. And from its balcony we see the groups of children moving away from the park, always dancing, playing, running, and laughing. They return beyond the hills. Everything is quiet now.
Since my journey began, many things have surprised me, always very pleasantly. Would I have thought, one day, to see a herd of white bison, to approach history from the angle of hats, to meet a decorator of nature, to fly in a hot air balloon over an island where wild horses live? Nor would I have thought I would meet a man for whom joy would be so important, inspired by something as common as an egg...
During the evening meal, Thierry explains to me that if all the rich people took a little of their time and money to give joy through simple things, the world would be a better place. As Mya said: "create small bubbles of joy that, eventually, will multiply".
The meal finished, I thank Thierry very much for this pleasant time spent in his company.
I go back to my room and get ready for the night. I sing, I smile. I still imagine myself dancing with the eggs!
© 2021, Walkie-Writie, Jacinthe
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