When I was a young man, I lived in a city that was glum and cruel and lost. Its streets were as horrible as socks that haven’t been washed, broken by human recklessness, and never blessed with clean rain. A grimy, disgusting wind constantly blew, sneaking around the buildings like a jaguar that is ready to pounce.
And then, just when the sun had fallen, I met an old man in a narrow alleyway. He was slow and feeble, the perfect prey. His bag was big and bulky, but when I tried to take it from him, he gripped it as if his life was on the line. Backwards and forwards we tugged at that bag until eventually, he exclaimed, ”If you promise to share them I will let go.”
What is he going on about? I didn’t understand nor did I want to understand, I just wanted whatever was in the bag, so I said, “Ok I promise.” He loosened his tight grip immediately and grinned at me. I sprinted away without looking back at the old man, thinking of all the lovely things in his bag.
But when I opened it – there was nothing but muffins. My eyes were drawn to them, so plump, so perfect and so many, immediately I realised the promise I had undertaken. I held the key to satisfaction, and my goals were changed. I pushed aside my own selfish thoughts of food and money. And for the first time in my life I felt blessed, more rich than I ever thought I could be. I slept with the muffins for my pillow, my head full of delicious dreams.
In the morning, I began to fulfil my promise. I shared my muffins with homeless and poor people, in flats, near buildings, markets and stores, by roads, street lights and train tracks, in galleries and houses, behind school buildings and parks, at bus stops, cafes, shops. I shunned the glum and cruel and lost and I shared and shared and shared.
Nothing altered at first. The grimy, disgusting wind still constantly blew, sneaking around the buildings. The people still stayed inside their homes. But gradually, gradually, gradually signs of kindness appeared. Satisfaction! First here and there, then everywhere. People came onto the streets to see. They smelled the muffins in wonder, and grinned. They ate muffins together in parks. They spoke and chuckled. And pretty soon they were sharing too. Muffins and cakes, donuts and bread in parks and gardens, on balconies and rooftops. Pastries spread through the city like a running trend, being shared between people, drawing people from their homes.
But by then I was already far away, sharing with another neglected and dull city… and another… and another… and another. And last night, down a dark street, a young robber fought me for my bag of muffins. I grinned and asked if he would undertake the promise, knowing how goals can change, knowing that my sharing will go on.
