It's been a while since I bought the beautiful bowl, but now that I was taking pictures for my website, I suddenly thought of her again.
She is standing at a market with her things. She mainly sells real antiques and then the more refined items.
She wears a fur coat and her long hair is pinned up with a beautiful pin. She nods kindly as I look around among all her beautiful items. My eye falls on a beautiful bowl of opaline glass in a beautiful subtle light green color. In the middle the bowl contains a vase of clear green glass and gold-colored decoration. I immediately fell in love with it. And while I look at the bowl, she tells me in French that the things she sells come from a small castle in France. They belonged to the countess who lived there and she had been a chambermaid there for many years. Because the countess liked her so much, she was regularly given an antique piece to take home. When the countess gets too old, she goes to a nursing home and her job as a chambermaid comes to an end.
All this time she keeps the antiques. And now that she is an elderly lady herself, she has decided to sell the items. Not because she needs the money, but it's too much for her and she doesn't like it anymore. And as she tells this, I hear her swallow and when I look into her eyes, I expect tears at any moment. But they are omitted. Yet I see sadness hidden behind this apparently disinterested woman. She tries to adopt a nonchalant attitude, but it doesn't quite work.
Of course I can't see into her heart or into her head, but something in her look makes me doubt whether she is telling the truth and all kinds of other scenarios run through my mind.
I feel sorry for her, but oh, how she has aroused my curiosity. I ask her about the castle and the name of the countess, but she doesn't want to reveal anything.
'I just want to get rid of it' she keeps repeating 'I don't like it anymore'.
I have no reason for it, but I can't help but not believe all that.
Once I have paid for the bowl, she lovingly wraps it up for me. And then she talks passionately about the bowl that was always full of fruit and with a beautiful bouquet in the middle on a table in a private room of the countess, about how she regularly saw a love card hidden in the bouquet. She never saw the person in question, but she thinks this was an impossible secret love.
I can't imagine that she doesn't value this beautiful bowl with all its memories and secrets.
And at once this bowl has even more meaning for me, besides being beautiful.
I look into two sad eyes as I say goodbye to her. And for a moment the thought crosses my mind that she has just told a story about herself.
I feel her watching me as I walk away.
I will never know whether this story is the truth. But that doesn't matter in this case, it's a beautiful and perhaps also a bit sad story.

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