Success for Sale

             

 

 

            

             A sign over the door read “Success for Sale” in bright gold letters
 

12th grade, Lora Angelova, High school of Languages Petar Beron, Kyustendil

 

 It’s hard out there, looking for jobs. As a college student fresh out of high-school, with no experience behind me, in the middle of an economic crisis, I am sure you could imagine my struggles in the first month or so away from home.
I am sure you can also imagine how surprised I was, when I turned up for yet another interview for the position of a shopkeeper and I read the sign on the door.
It was an old, though charming building, like the ones that usually get turned into cafés or trinket shops. But instead of a cliché, cutesy name like “Little treasures” or something of the like, in front of me in bold, golden letters proudly sat “Success for Sale”. Intrigued, if a little confused, I stepped through the door. I was met with the joyful ring of a bell, swinging as the door opened and closed. Next thing I noticed was how there was something exciting in the air, something mysterious. I couldn’t quite pin-point what that feeling was, only describe it. It felt like climbing trees in my grandparents’ backyard as a kid; like sneaking
out of my room to shamelessly steal a snack in the middle of the night, trying not to wake up my parents; like my first day of high-school when I was so scared and so excited at the same time, starting anew in a different place with different people; like my first kiss; like grabbing my acceptance letter. Like the taste of pop-corn with caramel, like the awe of the unknown, like a good book with an even better ending, like-…
“Ah, Mister Harrison.” A voice cut through my thoughts “I am glad to see you here.”
I moved further inside the shop, seeing an old man standing behind the wooden counter. He was slightly hunched forward, his small frame almost entirely disappearing behind a massive pile of books sitting on the flat surface. His face was…kind. I wouldn’t be able to describe it otherwise – his eyes had a sort of warm, although mischievous, glow to them, like he knew something the rest of us don’t and a soft smile like he was welcoming his grandchild and not a random applier he had never met before.
“Hello! I am sorry, I didn’t see you-“ I was promptly cut off before I could finish whatever explanation I was conjuring up.
“Bravery. A heart worth of bravery, a tablespoon of kindness and a hearty dose of forgiveness.” The odd man rambled off, swiftly, as if reciting the recipe for some strange beverage.
“Pardon?” I blinked, startled. I probably looked as dumb as I felt but, dear reader, I was so unbelievably confused.
“That’s what you need, boy” The cleric said, with that odd glint in his eye. “That’s what you need for success.”
“I was under the impression that was a clever word-play, sir.” Or a scam, but I wasn’t about to say that.
“Banner.” The man answered “No, my boy, I sell success. Or help with it, anyway. Now, the buyer – it all depends on the buyer. If I give them all they need and they do naught, no amount of my little tricks can
help, truly.”

 “Isn’t it easier to sell a ready potion, then? Or whatever you do sell?” I looked around, for the first time since I’ve walked there, noticing little jars, bigger jars, boxes in all shapes and colors and all sorts of weird trinkets I had neither the ability to comprehend at the time, nor the gal to ask what they were. Ingredients,
perhaps.
“No, you see, everyone has different tools they lack. Everyone has different ambitions, too. You want to make something worthwhile, I can tell. You want to be there for people, you want to mean something to everyone. Some want money or fame. Others seek knowledge, or discovery. Maybe adventure, maybe love, maybe potatoes. Everyone sees knowledge differently, everyone lacks different things. That is how life works.”
“Potatoes?” I asked, brain still railing with trying to comprehend it all. “And what do I lack? Why? If not anything else, I think I am a fairly forgiving person, at the very least.”
Mr. Banner walked up from behind the counter, fixing his glasses. “Well, there was this one astronaut but never mind, never mind. Now, we are here to talk about you, aren’t we? You are just brave enough to live.
And nothing else. You are terrified of failure! So terrified, in fact, you cannot grab success either. They are brothers, remember that – brothers. And as such, often walk hand in hand. Now, kindness – that’s what
makes people human. It’s at the very foundation of life, of joy, of love and as such – everything that can be considered worthwhile. Be brave enough to be kind when the world is not.”
He looked at me with such intensity I knew in my soul, I had no choice but to be the kindest I could possibly be to everyone I meet. I couldn’t disappoint the kind stranger or I might die of guilt.
“And you are so, so full of regret, of blame.” My whole body went cold, as the words left their mark. “You carry guilt that is not yours. Of existing, of living. Only when you drop it, can you be happy.”
“You mean, successful?” I, graciously, leaned on a nearby shelf as to not fall from the weight, the terror, of
being known.
He smiled, eyes gleaming “Those are the same thing.”