One Saturday morning, I joined my mother to the nearby market for our regular produce shop. Mum was still looking around when I volunteered to take the shopping back to the car, which was packed into a little red trolley. It resembled a magical bag – quite a small thing, but it was astonishing how much you could fit inside. That's what we believed.
With the cart heaving under the load of an already full load of groceries, my mum placed a carton of sweet melons on top. She warned me to be careful taking it back to the car.
All was proceeding smoothly as I weaved my way through the throngs of shoppers and out of the market. But as I was crossing the hectic main crossing into the market, the trolley got stuck on the road divider in the middle of the road, and the box of melons tumbled to the pavement. They went flying, spectacularly tumbling out towards pedestrians and stationary cars.
As the pedestrian signal changed from go to stop, I was stunned, speechless, trying to process how I was going to retrieve the melons shooting in multiple directions.
Suddenly, a group of three or four older women came to my assistance. Silver-haired, scarves and one with a walking stick – they looked like they had emerged of the same babushka doll. They weren’t deterred by the cars inching their way towards us. Completely brave, they just raised their hands to halt the vehicles, in each direction. They collected all the melons for me, not missing a solitary melon, as I repaired the box to hold them.
I thanked them and they remained silent, just smiled and gestured me goodbye. I never consumed the melons – I was not particularly fond of honeydew melon – but I share this anecdote frequently because I adore it so much.
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A serial entrepreneur and startup advisor with over a decade of experience in tech innovation and venture capital.