Years ago, while shopping at the Friday market, a small, colorful traditional Turkmen hat caught my eye. But it was the seller who touched my heart.
A very old, beautiful woman dressed in layers of Turkmen clothes with a green floral scarf. Her face was as white as snow, soft like a cotton flower, with small lips and a big smile.
I bought a few hats. It was summer, so hot in Tehran, and I was tired from walking all day. I was a bit grumpy.
She looked at me and handed me a very small bag that could only fit a phone. I said, “No, I just want the hats…”
She replied, “It’s a gift for you, my son.”
At first, I didn’t notice, but then I started laughing.
She told me, “Look, a cheap bag put a priceless smile on your face.”
Years later, I found her again in that market. She simply asked, “Do you still have that smile on your face, my son?”
She remembered me.
Now, every time I look at this lamp, I smile.