The toy that was not destined for the sick child... (A life story)

Yesterday, I bargained for a toy, specifically a sandboard, to get it at a lower price:

– It was for sick children. Please lower the price a bit.

The seller with a shiny face was taken aback.

– I already gave you thirty thousand, sister. I’m telling you the price that no one has ever offered for the sick. If you don’t believe me, go ahead! Check the prices in other stores.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the toy and sighed.

– I checked. I saw. There’s one left in your store.

The seller stretched and smiled:

– There you go... Your father is lucky! I only sell unique toys myself. I gave a great price. Just take it. It’s the last one left. There are many buyers for this, if you think too long, you’ll miss out.

– You don’t understand? – I said, pouting, – You would earn great rewards. It’s Ramadan!

The seller shook his head firmly:

– Sister, this is just a small amount of money. I have to make a living, I have a family. I won’t sell it at a loss, right? I’m giving it to you at my price, hoping to share in the rewards for the sick. If you don’t buy it, it’s up to you. I have little time left. I need to close the store. I have to catch iftar.

I didn’t say anything else. A fasting person doesn’t deceive others. Maybe the sandboard really is more expensive.

A simple sandboard is a great anti-stress toy. You don’t need a pencil or paint. You can draw with your fingers and palms. It even has a light underneath. As a result, the pictures on the board become more vivid than on paper.

We distract children who have undergone chemotherapy and light therapy from pain and suffering by having them draw. Some kids don’t like paper and prefer to draw on the wall. For those "artists," the sandboard "album" is a great solution.

If they don’t like the picture they drew, they can scatter the sand and draw again, which brings joy to the children. Most importantly, they can distract themselves, even if just a little, from the unbearable suffering of serious illnesses.

I counted the money I had left over. It wasn’t enough. Adding what I had, I borrowed a little more from my friend’s plastic card, and just as I was about to open my mouth, a well-dressed, elegant person entered the store.

The seller pretended not to see me, bending down and asking the newcomer in a low voice, as if to say "service."

The elegant person didn’t even pay attention to the seller’s lowly manners. Without responding to Ramadan greetings, he pointed his phone at the seller’s face and showed him something:

– My grandson asked about this, do you have it?

The seller glanced at the phone screen and smiled broadly:

– Yes, we have it! Why wouldn’t we? Boss, you’ve been in my dreams lately. I saved one just for you.

The elegant person didn’t care about the seller’s flattery and cut him off.

– How much? He pulled out a hundred dollars from his pocket, – is that okay?

The buyer’s eyes sparkled at the money, and he grinned strangely:
– Even if you don’t sell it, it’s fine. It would be a gift for my grandson.

The buyer, as if to say that his grandson wouldn’t be upset about your gift, tossed the money onto the table.

– Fine, the money you gave is blessed. It will bring blessings to my store. Look, the surroundings have brightened up. Come in, just like that. No... If you say a word, I’ll personally deliver the great toys...

Watching this scene, I remembered Mayakovsky’s poem "Passport." We had memorized it in some class. The seller, carelessly taking our national currency from the buyers and tossing it into a paper box, resembled the official checking passports in the poet’s poem:

When taking from someone, don’t be careless.
One must not even mention this.
The official bows to the English passport
As if it were a sacred thing...

He didn’t kiss the dollar with both hands, didn’t rub it on his eyes, didn’t bow, just carefully tucked it into his side pocket and reached for the toy.

To my surprise, it was the sandboard I wanted to buy, the only one left in the entire market, capable of creating artistic works by bringing the sand to life.

Feeling anxious, I turned to the seller.

– I wanted to buy this. Here’s the money. I’m buying it for sick children. Sell it to me!

He glared at me and justified himself:

– You should have argued with me, sister. What have you been doing all this time? It’s not about running; it’s about ordering...

The elegant buyer didn’t even pay attention to me. After taking the sandboard, he quietly left, and I couldn’t hold back my anger.

– You were offering me thirty thousand. You just sold it to this person for a hundred thousand in cash. You were even ready to give it away for free, you have no shame.

He coughed and grumbled at me:

– Eeee, don’t bother me! Get out of my store. I know how much to sell to whom. I need to open my mouth; I’m in a hurry, he said, and dashed out of the store before me, disappearing somewhere.

I noticed his assistant standing outside, looking embarrassed, shaking his head as if to say, "What can I do?"

I smiled weakly at the employee who was standing inside, feeling embarrassed about the situation:

– Are you the owner of the apricot orchard?
– He shrugged as if to say he didn’t know. He seemed to be saying he was just an ordinary person.

As I was leaving the market parking lot, I spotted the elegant buyer again. He was almost bent over, taking the toy from the seller’s hand, ignoring the goodbyes, and getting into his expensive car...