Libby Myers (Grade 8)
We were sitting shoulder to shoulder in
the back seat, giggling and babbling uncontrollably. As our minivan rounded the right curve on the
steep mountain slope, we all flopped over leaning towards the left. As one child squashed the other, the tinkling
of a children’s laughter filled the car.
Finally, we arrived at our destination. One at a time, we jumped out with bright eyes. One, two, three, four! My
brothers and I were ready to explore the sights, tastes, smells, and sounds of the
exotic Bulgarian market street.
I clung to Dad’s hand as he led me down
the street of bustling activity. Like
dew on the early morning grass, laughter clung to the air. As marionettes and homemade wooden toys
danced on their shelves, colors jumped out to greet us like Jack in the Boxes,
and a chorus of flighty giggles broke through the dams of our lips. Each open-air stall was a door inviting us to
a new world, everyone abundant with color and smiling faces. We readily entered.
The sizzling, crackling meat cooked inside
the carnival-like restaurant. Temptingly,
the savory smell wafted by my nose.
While my eager eyes darted to-and-fro, absorbing the excitement around
me, Wesley was jumping around looking at everything, with Colby tagging along
behind him. Honey and comb gleamed in
the jars from which they were sold. The
sunlight caught it in such a way that it glowed with an other worldly light.
Storekeepers grinned because we were an odd
sight: four fair-skinned children,
all under the age of ten, with angel hair and blue eyes. Shyly, we trundled along, returning the happy
looks with bashful smiles of our own. I
gaped as we passed the Turkish Delight stand.
I glanced hopefully at my mom and was not disappointed. Out came the wallet and soon enough I had a
piece of the sticky candy within my hands.
Cautiously, my tongue darted in and out like a kitten lapping up its
milk, as if someone would come up and take my treasure from me. Soon, I had a coating of the delightful sweet
around my mouth. As we started up an incline, I bounced up and down, delighted.
As we sprang up the hill, I slipped
slightly on the cobblestones, which were wet with dew, trying to match my dad’s
long stride. The prattle of foreign
voices faded as we climbed the slanted street. Gradually, the market behind us
became merely a patchwork of jumbled colors misting away into the foggy
mountain slope. Up ahead the majestic
and ancient gate of the Orthodox Church rose before us in splendid glory. As people slipped through a pair gigantic
wooden of doors, we glimpsed paintings of the saints. One elderly “baba” feebly touched her lips to
the painting of St. Paul, and set her lit candle into the stand beside it,
which was filled with sand. As she muttered a brief prayer, her head, covered
with a red and black scarf, bobbed up and down. Upon exiting, her colorful skirts rustled in the wind and she drew her
coat tighter around her bulky clothes.
My mother pushed Timmy around in his stroller, and he twisted around to
take everything in with his young eyes.
As I nibbled on the last bit of my Turkish Delight, I was thrilled with
the flavor that frolicked on my taste buds.
We turned around.
On the way back to the car, our hearts
broke for the armless beggar pleading for money. Dismally, we wondered what accident had
happened to make him this way, and whether the "accident" was
intentional or not. We were depressed, but not for long. After traveling back
through the “Wonderland”, which was the open-air market, we tumbled into the
car and resumed our playful game of leaning against one another. We giggled as
Mom passed back napkins to wipe our smiling mouths and sticky hands. As bleary-eyed children drifted off to dreams
of the sizzling of meat, the bright paint, the taste of candy, and all the
other sights, smells, tastes, and sounds, the day’s adventure was drawn to a
conclusion.
END