Taking the Canada Line train from Vancouver's waterfront
to the City of Richmond south of Vancouver.
Outside the train window I spot a sign
that says The One Cafe.
I decide to try there.
I enter and sit at a table.
3 tables are across from me
as I sit in the middle of the restaurant.
The middle table is empty.
At the table on my left is an elderly man and woman
On my right sit two parents and a little girl
The dad has his back to me
The mother and little girl face me.
I place my order.
As I sit there I notice the mother with a large bowl of something
The little girl with a very tiny white bowl.
The elderly man at the left table sits
with his silver tipped cane walking stick,
The little girl has a wide smile
she's obviously enjoying what she's eating.
Her little white bowl is obviously empty
for she takes her spoon and starts dishing food
out of her mother's large red bowl.
The mother helps her with her own chopsticks
putting noodles and dumplings into the little white bowl
and then uses the chopsticks to cut up the dumplings
so the little girl can chew them.
The waitress arrives with food for the table on my left.
In front of the elderly man is put down a piping hot dish
of what appears to be a baked chicken dish on top of rice.
It looks delicious.
Makes me glad I ordered the Portuguese style baked chicken
on rice.
The man puts down his silver tipped cane he had been holding so tightly
and eagerly reaches for his fork and spoon.
A wide smile on his face
he digs into the dish.
I look back to the little girl.
She too is still smiling widely and is once again digging
into her mother's bowl for more.
Back to the elderly man
whose face and hands are etched with long years.
His lines speak of a hard life
but his smile speaks of a good life though hard.
His face looks etched with experience and wisdom.
I look over at the little girl on the table on my right
her face speaks of the joy and innocence of childhood
and her whole life ahead of her.
But she smiles joyously
the smile of a child obviously brought up in a home
filled with love.
And so they eat happily and contentedly
the elderly man at the table on my left
and the little girl at the table on my right.
This is obviously a good place with good food
I reckon
judging from the beaming smiles
on the faces of the elderly man and the little girl.
It is correct this assumption.
When I get the Portuguese baked chicken on rice
it is a taste I've never tasted before in my life
but it tastes heavenly!
oh so heavenly!
The little girl is back for a fourth helping from her mother's bowl
and then a fifth and then a sixth.
I don't think the poor mother has had much of a chance
to eat much herself.
But she doesn't seem to mind.
The smile on her daughter's face brings a smile to hers.
The elderly man holds his spoon and fork tightly as he eats
his dish.
And eats.
And eats.
Smiling with every bite.
And pure joy in his eyes.
Then he is finished.
He pushes the dish to the far side of the table
to a spot I can see.
Totally empty.
He has eaten every bite.
Then and only then he puts down his knife and fork
and once again holds on tightly to his silver tipped cane.
I look back to the little girl who is now on her seventh helping
from her mother's red bowl
into her little white bowl.
The waitress brings the bill to the table on my left.
The elderly man and woman pay it and leave.
The elderly man has trouble walking-
hence the use of the cane
but one can see there is pride in his stride
and much fortitude-
no doubt enhanced by a deliciously good and filling meal.
Now the little girl has finished and the waitress brings the bill to that table
which the father pays.
The little girl skips happily down from her chair with much gusto
and fervour and ease
in contrast to the elderly man who required the use of a cane.
The dad has gone on ahead of her
and she runs to grab his hand
happily jumping and skipping.
The elderly man has lived a long and hard life
his step isn't what it used to be
the little girl jumps as if she could reach heaven
which for her hopefully is many years away.
The old man has lived a full life
The little girl is only beginning hers
but on this day they have something in common
a deliciously home cooked meal that brought them much joy
and smiles on their faces
that is probably the greatest tip and compliment
a restaurant could ask for.
-A poem written by Christopher
written circa 12:24 AM
Wednesday morning
June 5th 2013
based on what he observed
in a Richmond restaurant
around noon Tuesday
June 4th 2013.
