With a big smile the young girl handed me the yellow flower as I sat on the bus bound for home. As she continued down the aisle I saw the words, "Compliments de TPG" written in red on the back of her white T-shirt.
The TPG is the Geneva Bus System, which makes it possible for me to have given up the expense and aggravation of owning a car for over 20 years. It was late in the day and I'd just made a useless trip into town and was eager to get home.
The girl, probably no more than 20 with long, dark hair, also handed out a small brochure singing the praises of locally grown flowers, vegetables and herbs. It is a matter of principle that whenever I can, I buy things locally-made from an environmental perspective, the desire to support my community and the strong belief that every centime I spend, is a political statement.
However, none of my purchasing philosophy was at play as I watched the girl with the bucket of flowers, individually wrapped, as she handed them to people. Many of their faces wore the tiredness of the late afternoon. A couple of people frowned and shook their heads as if the flowers would some how hurt them.
But most faces sloughed off the cares of the day replacing them with a smile as they took the flowers. My smile as I looked at the flower went all the way through to my heart.
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