The Honeydews Went Flying and a Band of Kind Elderly Ladies Rushed to the Rescue

One weekend morning, I joined my mum to the nearby market for our regular fruit and veg shop. My mother continued browsing when I volunteered to bring the groceries back to the car, which was stuffed into a small rolling cart. It was like a magical bag – quite a small thing, but it was astonishing how much you could fit inside. Or so we thought.

With the cart straining under the weight of an already full load of supplies, my mum placed a box of sweet melons on top. She cautioned me to be cautious getting it back to the car.

All was going well as I made my way through the throngs of shoppers and out of the market. But as I was navigating the hectic main intersection into the market, the trolley became lodged on the road divider in the middle of the road, and the box of melons tumbled to the ground. They scattered, spectacularly tumbling out towards passersby and stationary cars.

As the little walking man switched from go to stop, I was stunned, mouth agape, trying to figure out how I was going to retrieve the melons shooting in six different directions.

Out of nowhere, a group of several older women came to my rescue. Silver-haired, head scarves and one with a cane – they appeared as if they had emerged of the same nesting doll. They weren’t deterred by the cars inching their way towards us. Completely brave, they just raised their hands to halt the traffic, in each direction. They collected all the melons for me, not missing a solitary melon, as I fixed the box to hold them.

I expressed gratitude to them and they didn’t say a word, just grinned and waved me goodbye. I didn’t eat the melons – I was never a real fan of honeydew – but I share this story frequently because I adore it so much.

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