"De Huelva, para que vuelvas"
Esta mañana he bajado a la frutería del barrio, un lugar frecuente en mi vida. Cada vez que voy es un ejemplo perfecto por los motivos de querer tanto a Sevilla. Momentos cotidianos, pero bien vividos. El dueño no está esperando el finde, ni deseando irse a casa. Hace su trabajo y lo vive, interactúa con la gente como si fuera su mejor amigo. Y por eso me encanta, porque voy y es un rato de disfrutar, da igual que sea un supuesto recado monótono.
Estaba acabando de pedir la fruta, por ultimo pido arándanos.
Le pregunto, “están ricos?”
“Claro, además te duran mucho!” dice el frutero, con sinceridad y una sonrisa sencilla. Un segundo después añade, riéndose por lo bajo, “Son de Huelva…para que vuelvas!”
Me río también. Esto es vivir.
This morning I went down to the neighborhood fruit shop, a constant spot in my life. Every time I go, it’s a perfect example of one of the thousand reasons to love Sevilla so much. Ordinary, everyday moments, but well-lived…deeply lived. Deeply in the sense that every moment matters, no matter how seemingly simple. The owner of the fruit shop, who always takes my order, isn’t waiting for the weekend, nor is he counting down the seconds for his work day to end. He does his job and he lives it, interacting with his customers as if they were his best friends. And that’s why I love it, because I go to the fruit shop and it’s a always a joy, no matter that it’s just me going to buy my fruit for the week.
I was finishing up my order this morning, and the last thing I ordered were blueberries.
I asked him, “Are they good?”
“Of course, and they don’t go bad very quickly!” replied the owner, a sincere response with a sweet smile. A second later he adds, laughing quietly, “Son de Huelva…para que vuelvas” (a cute catchy rhyme he invented in the moment: “They’re from Huelva, so that you’ll come back [and order them again]”).
I laugh too. This is living.