Perspective from a Misunderstood soul @ The Urban Market

TM
Jan 3, 2021
2 min read

This is a little throwback story that is dear to me.

My first markets with the old TMcKay & Co. were a lot of work—the setup, the takedown, and all the in-between. I did really enjoy it, and overall, it was a success. But in the end, it wasn’t worth the time it took away from my growing family.

However, there is a story, unrelated to my company or the markets themselves, that really stands out in my memory.

During a mid-summer’s hot day, an elder Indigenous man came by and started doing a little dance to the music, being a bit loud. Some people around looked uncomfortable, but it really didn’t bother me. When he got closer to my booth, I saw a security guard heading toward him. Not long after, the guard began to escort him away.

I liked that he was dancing. Even though it wasn’t the most graceful, he was feeling the music, which was beautifully played by a young girl on guitar in the middle of the market.

I was in the middle of something in my little tent but felt compelled to drop what I was doing. I walked over and asked the security guard to stop.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He replied, “Taking him away for being a disturbance.”

I could smell alcohol on the man, but something about him seemed kind. I told the guard, “If you let him go, I will be responsible for what happens with him today.”

The security guard frowned, clearly reluctant, but eventually agreed. I thanked him, returned to my tent, and decided to give the man one of my items for free.

Afterward, I sat with him and asked about his life. He shared that his entire family had died in a crash, and afterward, he became homeless and lived mostly off substances. As he finished his story, I cried with him—I could feel his heart beyond his external behavior.

When we were done talking, he thanked me and said he was going to go. I gave him a small gift, and off he went.

I may have lost some sales and time that day, but I gained a blessing—perspective.

*I didn’t take a picture of him that day—for obvious reasons—but here’s a picture of my little setup from that summer.*