Paradise found
![Cherry Cherry](/sites/abctales.com/themes/abctales_new/images/cherry.png)
![](https://www.abctales.com/sites/abctales.com/files/styles/cover/public/covers/Hou%20de%20moed%20er%20maar%20in.jpg?itok=X4HqkqKM)
By Itane Vero
- 55 reads
The chairman does not cry. He is too old, too mature, too experienced for it. But it is clear that he is affected. And he is not alone. The members of the allotment association Little Paradise also look disconsolately at the worn planks of the clubhouse.
Notwithstanding, the evening started so promising. Today we celebrate the seventy-five-year anniversary of the association. Founded a few years after the Second World War, generations of men and women have lovingly cared for their piece of land. Clearing weeds. Throwing away stones. Removing old plant remains. Digging up the tough soil. Applying compost. Building boxes or temporary greenhouses to grow flowers or vegetables.
The variety of vegetables and plants that grow in the hundreds of gardens is dizzying. Endive, beetroot, spinach, potatoes, cauliflowers, chives, mint, parsley, marigolds, lavender, violets.
There is plenty of cake and coffee tonight. In addition, the drinks bottles and snacks are already ready on the bar at the back of the room to complete the party feeling during the evening.
Cheerful music sounds from the speakers. Streamers and balloons hang from the low, dark brown ceiling. The members of Little Paradise are in an extremely good mood. The association feels like a family to many. People know each other, they help each other.
As usual, there is a members' meeting first. The common topics are being discussed. Finances, recruitment of members, corvee services, contacts with the municipality, the joint purchase of services such as maintenance, materials and cleaning.
The association is flourishing. So much is clear after the factual speech of our chairman. The budget for the following year has been approved. The organization has sufficient money in its possession. In addition, there is a healthy influx of new, young, enthusiastic men and women. The interest in growing flowers, herbs and vegetables yourself seems to be of any age and all times.
While most members are already thinking about the rest of the evening – fine drinks, Burgundian snacks, animated conversations, frivolous dance music – the chairman takes the floor again. His voice is hoarse this time, his eyes are moist.
“We are in a deep crisis,” says the chairman. “Recently, we have discovered that there has been a theft in Little Paradise.”
It is as if our leader has thrown a grenade in our midst. We stand together, stunned, shocked, flabbergasted, dumbstruck. Theft? Within our club, our association, our family, our world?
“To make it concrete, a cauliflower was stolen last week,” says our spokesman. “From whom, is not of our business right now. The member in question has filed a complaint with the board.”
Then things going awry. The underlying frustration bursts. Accusations are made. Members have always suspected it. People point their fingers at each other. The attendees shout, scream.
A chair falls, a balloon bursts, the cheerful streamers fall from the ceiling. The chairman is the first who can't control himself. He gives the treasurer a good kicking. The treasurer's wife doesn't let this happen to her husband. She attacks the chairman and plants her nails in his usually peaceful, pale face. There’s blood on the floor.
While the situation escalates completely, a small woman steps onto the stage. Everyone knows her. She is the owner of the spring roll stall on the market square. She takes the microphone and apologetically tells what is going on. She realizes that it was her son who stole the cauliflower. Although stolen isn’t the right word. He accidentally took the cabbage from the wrong garden. She didn't have time to go herself to her allotment but needed the vegetable to prepare the spring rolls. She is terribly sorry. In retrospect, she should never have sent her little son to Little Paradise alone.
We look at each other in confusion. As quickly as the anger and confusion arose, they disappear just as quickly. We realize. Come on, aren't we related, aren't we one? Someone hands out the drinks, light-hearted music can be heard. On to the next seventy-five years!
- Log in to post comments
Comments
That sounds like every family
That sounds like every family dinner at our house. One of Mark's kids always has a grievance about something--and games nights get ridiculously competitive.
The thing that makes this story work so well is the pace ... you turn it at just the right paragraph. Well written and engaging. I enjoyed it. Thanks for the read.
- Log in to post comments
cauliflower theft is growing.
cauliflower theft is growing. glad they could nip it in the bud.
- Log in to post comments