Nightwind’s home

Everyday when I find myself alone in my room at night, I light a candle and think over the day’s events. What went wrong and what went right, how was my life changed that day or who’s lives I touched. Every night the answers are disappointingly poor … but today … today was a special day.

Today is the day I met magic on a street corner. Today I saw the most sincere smile ever since I returned from Sibiu.

Up to that moment, my day had been far from special. Driven by my melancholy, I was roaming the narrow streets of Cluj pondering over my latest decision, my latest inner change. Compelled by the blue sky, I took some photos along the way. They were nothing special, haven’t even reviewed them yet. Disappointed by my lack of skill in photography, I began to journey back to the town’s center when, at some corner, I saw an old man.

It was luck that I even saw him, he was hugged bag that corner, concealed by the deceiving shadows and shivering under the night’s cold touch. Wrinkles marred his face, betraying his age. His sorrowful eyes were silently begging a kissing couple to buy flowers from a choice of three pale bouquets. At first he didn’t notice me at all, why would I buy his little bouquets? I was all alone, like usual. His sadness matched mine.

Then a feeling overwhelmed me. I was looking for a chance, I came out looking for a miracle, I needed hope. Maybe the change I needed should begin now, but not for me. For this one man. A little shivering myself, I asked him for the two smallest bouquets, thinking that he had a better chance to sell the bigger third to someone else. As I reached out with the money, he reached out for me and drew me near. My first reaction was to pull back, uneasy at the proximity, but then I realized he was only beckoning me to smell the flowers I was about to buy. I followed his gesture and a moment later I bathed my sense of smell in the sweetest perfume … the smallest bouquet was also bearer of the purest and strongest scent. Surprise struck me like that and I eagerly payed the man, who told me that he was cultivating them himself. Then he offered a bright smile, a most sincere smile that made me realize the magic of the moment. Money was the least I could offer to this old man who spent this Saturday night freezing with his amazing flowers.

And then I realized something else … everything that happened then and there was taken out of a fairy tale. The flowers that lacked in beauty made up this shortcoming in scent, a most beautiful scent. Isn’t this ironic? People treasure the most what they can see, discarding their other senses. But if one has the will to go past first impressions, then one might be blessed with the chance of a most special gift, something like beauty unseen, but beauty nonetheless, beauty which can be smelled and touched.

I didn’t took his photo, although I know that if I did, it would’ve been one of my best photos if not the best. But some things are best left unspoiled, some things are best committed to memory only. I keep his image in my head, his smile. The flowers are still with me, their outerworldly scent surrounding me as I write these very words.

It all happened so fast. I will probably never see him again. The flowers will wither and die. But I brought a smile to his face and he brought a smile on mine.

And so … I have their perfume. But now I also have hope … and the knowledge that miracles do happen. Maybe one day I will receive a miracle of my own. Until then … I will keep dreaming, dreaming until my dreams will come true.