One of the charming things about Europe is that shopping is more frequently done by visiting neighborhood stores and sidewalk vendors rather than Wal-Mart-style superstores. And in sunny Madrid, flower stands dot the corners as part of that landscape.
Many days I would be en route from my apartment to the nearby university and I would pass by Mariela, a 40-something-year-old Spanish lady selling flowers just one street up from where I lived. I’d bought flowers from her before, and one winter day, I saw Mariela faithfully manning her booth in the bitter cold. I couldn’t help but invite her inside for a cup of coffee at a nearby café. She gladly accepted, and we began talking.
Mariela was abnormally friendly for someone living in Madrid, but it didn’t bother me, as I was the abnormally friendly foreigner still hungry for local connections. We chatted about our families, Spanish customs and the United States, but nothing spiritual or of particular depth. After she finished her espresso, we parted ways so she could continue working, and I felt like I’d made a new friend.
From then on, I usually made it a point to stop and chat with Mariela when I passed her on my way to and from my flat, and she always seemed delighted to see me. And inevitably, whenever I bought some fresh flowers from her, she’d generously throw in a few of the prettiest blooms, smile and send me on my way without charging anything extra.
A few months after we first met, I ran into Mariela on my way home from church one Sunday. She asked where I was coming from, and I told her I had been at church, holding my breath and awaiting the negative reaction or blank stare to which I’d become accustomed. Instead, Mariela’s already present smile grew even wider.
Before I knew it, she and I were talking about Protestantism (which is often seen as a sect in Spain) and the fact that her daughter was pursuing a ministerial education. Mariela herself explained that she was a believer, and she talked about her faith as if it were real – not a cultural thing she was born into or a set of rules she had to follow, which was refreshing to hear.
Over and over, she expressed her excitement and shock from having met another follower of Jesus, saying she just knew there was something different about me. I myself couldn’t believe that all this time I’d had a sister in Christ just around the corner from me!
Though our platforms of flower vendor and full-time Christian worker were vastly different, that day I found a kindred spirit in Mariela. Her friendliness and generosity bless me to this day, and I delight in thinking about the kind of spiritual impact she’s making on her family, friends and fellow flower vendors. When I move back to Spain in a few months, I trust God will open the doors for me to continue to encourage her as she lives out her faith behind her flower stand.
