Angela was content as she straightened the worn plastic flowers in the window of her tiny shop. Some might kindly call it an antique store, while others would call it a junk shop with nothing of any real value. But for Angela, that is not the case, she believes everything has some value to someone. You just have to find the right person for the right item. Or maybe the right item for the right person.
As Angela was lost in her thoughts, a flash of lightning lit up the darkening skies. Rain and hail bounced off the large glass windows of the shop. She began to smile because the one good thing about a storm is that people will come in to get out of the rain.
Moments later, the sound of a small bell above the door rang out, announcing that a visitor had entered. He was a slow-moving elderly man with a somewhat tattered overcoat and a cane, followed by a young man with long straight hair and a skateboard under his arm. Soon after, a middle-aged couple walked in while arguing, which appeared to be their normal state.
No one was really there by choice, let alone had any interest in buying someone else’s old junk. Yet they all meandered about the shop, feigning curiosity about one item or another. While the whole time they would look out the window and check to see if the storm has passed.
The young man with the skateboard would pick up just about everything, laugh at the object, then put it back down. He continued in this manner until he stopped and stared at an old box of videotapes. The young man immediately ran over to Angela and asked her about the tapes.
“Where did they come from? Do they still work?”
Angela could tell that he was getting anxious, so she spoke in a calm voice, “Oh, those are videotapes that I got from a local television production company that has long since gone out of business. Would you like to watch them? I have an old VCR machine right here.”
The young man thought for a moment, then held out a single tape, “Can you play this one?”
Angela nodded and quickly went about connecting the machine cables to a large dusty black and white television. She powered up the equipment, inserted the tape, and pressed play.
As the young man watched, he seemed mesmerized. The first image was of a cue card that read:
Lighting Joe Corker – Training session before title match
This was followed by grainy and unsteady footage of a boxer working out in a gym, then sparing with an opponent in the ring.
“I don’t know a lot about boxing, but he looks pretty good to me,” whispered Angela. “I don’t think he is famous, and just looking at the age of this video, it seems to be well before your time. Have you ever heard of him?”
The young man stammered his words, “He… he is Joe Corker. And I am Joe Corker. I was always told that I was named after my grandfather, but I never met him.”
Angela was truly thrilled, “This must be so exciting for you. I can certainly see the resemblance between you and your grandfather. Do you know a lot about him?”
“No. Nothing really, my mom said that he volunteered to join the Army and was killed serving in WWII. But she never told me about this. It’s just my mom and I, and when I give her trouble at home, she says that if only grandpa was here, he would know how to handle me.”
Angela smiled, “From the looks of his right cross, I think he could handle just about anyone. But I really think your mom is talking about his character.”
Young Joe Corker turned from the television and gave a confused look, “What do you mean by his character?”
“Well, your grandfather gave up what looks like a promising boxing career in order to serve his country. That is a man you can be proud of, and I am sure that he would have been able to guide you during this time of your life.”
As the young man got up to leave, he quietly asked, “Do you think that I can come by here again with my mom? I know that she would like to see this tape of my grandfather, her father.”
Angela placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Sure, you are both welcome to stop by anytime.” And with that, she quietly moved on to see if she could help her other potential customers.
The frail elderly man seemed to be fixated on an old, faded movie poster that highlighted the name of some young unknown movie director. He would look at the poster, walk away, then slowly come back and look again.
Angela realized that she would have to start the conversation, “Are you interested in buying this poster?”
At first, the elderly man had some difficulty speaking, but eventually managed to say, “You have no idea how much I would love to have it. But unfortunately, I do not have money to spend on a silly poster.”
She gently pushed for a little background information and eventually found out that he was the director named in the poster, from almost fifty years ago. Angela winked at him, “You know, I really have no room for these posters. Would you be willing to take this one away? You would be doing me a favor.”
The man’s eyes lit up and a smile filled his face. The poster was carefully rolled up, placed into a cardboard tube for protection, and handed to the elderly man who now had a slight spring to his step as he walked out.
Over by the window, the couple were still arguing from when they first entered the shop. During some animated hand gestures, they accidentally knocked over the vase of plastic flowers. As they picked them up and started re-arraigning, long past memories came flooding back. They began talking about when they were first married and how they had to count every penny just to pay the bills.
The woman held the plastic flowers close to her, “Do you remember our bouquet of flowers?”
The husband’s response was somewhat stern, “How could I forget? I could not afford to get you real flowers for holidays or any other special occasions.”
She was calm with her reply, “But that is alright, we were struggling. And in some ways, our plastic flowers were better than real flowers. Remember how we would give them to each other back and forth, on Valentine’s Day for me, then I gave them to you for your very first raise at work, then you gave them back to me for my birthday.”
His shoulders relaxed and he now had a softer tone, “We did that, over and over again, and we enjoyed those dumb pitiful looking flowers every single time.”
Her eyes began to water, “And I can’t believe that they look exactly like our flowers. You don’t think they are, do you? I mean they can’t possibly be, right?”
They both just laughed and talked about the happy and fun days from their long ago past. Then walked together, hand in hand, over to Angela and paid for the bouquet of worn plastic flowers.
Everything has value, to the right person.