A Mexican Vendor

Today, as Tim and I walked along a stone pathway along the edge of the Pacific, we were searching for beauty in nature. We found it, in the deep colors of the Pacific and in the tiny crabs on the rocks. But we found beauty more vividly in the sweet spirit of the young woman selling jewelry on the path. She was the only vendor present. We were at first slightly annoyed to have seen her in such a secluded spot, for the vendors in this city of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico are aggressive and have a way of ruining a romantic moment.

But this girl, sitting nine months pregnant behind her black cloth full of carefully –laid jewelry, was not our normal vendor. I had to stop. I just had to. I heard myself say, “Tim, look, she is pregnant and alone. We have to support her.”

Her jewelry was of an inexpensive metal, and was crudely handmade. It was of a coiled metal design. I pointed at one necklace with a smooth round green stone attached at the bottom of a series of coiled wire. “180 pesos,” she said. Hmm, about $18, a bit high for a metal that will turn my skin green, but I looked up at Tim with my big blue eyes, knowing the power of persuasion that I have over him.

“We must help her,” I said, “her baby is due on December 15th." She could not speak English, but had gotten that much across to me in Spanish. Only 13 days away.

Tim says I always get what I want, but that is only true when I really, really want something and he can tell it. He bought me the necklace, of course, and I proudly wore it before I left the young woman. She handed me a free pair of earrings and Tim snapped a photo of the two of us together.

Later as I sat by the river next to the hotel, I thought about our little vendor. I think what drew me to her was her spirit. It was calm, not restless. She did not shout at us as the other vendors did, or say things like, “Want to see my junk?” or “I make you a deal today. Almost free.” We heard those words from the other vendors. Our girl just sat there and smiled sweetly at us as we walked by her the first time, uttering not a word. When we passed her again later, her spirit connected to mine – I am a mother, too, and I know what it feels like to be 9 months pregnant . I know what it is like to sell something that you have made with your own hands. How hard salesmanship is for us meek ones.

As a fellow mother, a craftswoman, an artist, a forced-saleswoman, I could not turn away from our Mexican friend without supporting her work. May she always be so sweet, may her baby be healthy, may her smile never waver, may her work be rewarding, may God bless her.