by Gabrielle Morgan

Created on: May 30, 2008

A HAPPY MAN

The Food Market opened. Vince Endopoli was already on the job, checking the fruit and vegetables and putting the 59 cents a kilo marker on a bin full of large oranges, the special of the day. Nowhere could you buy oranges that cheap. Vince had done a deal with the growers who couldn't get rid of their load because too many were being imported into the country.

"Hard to see the sense importing oranges when we grow better one's here," thought Vince. "It doesn't take a College Degree to figure that out."

Vince had a good head when it came to figures. He didn't have much education but he knew how to work hard and manage money. He bought his first butcher's shop when he was twenty five. The customers returned because he gave them good meat and he always had a cheerful word to say. Now he owned his own market employing fifty staff.

For a man approaching sixty, he was well pleased with himself. It showed in his demeanor. He was jovial, always had a smile, and strode about his Market with a sense of purpose. He never missed an opportunity to cajole an unsuspecting customer by pointing them in the direction of the produce he wanted to sell that day. His manner was beguiling as he explained the benefit of an over ripe banana or a tomato which had reached perfection in flavor. He spoke with such conviction and concern that few ever left without loaded shopping bags or without gaining elevation to their spirit.

Vince noticed a woman studying the legs of lamb in the meat section.

She looked up and smiled at him.

"Can't decide?" he questioned.

"Well, no. Lamb is so expensive, I was thinking perhaps I should buy pork, but I really love lamb."

"What about this piece here, it's not quite as big. Spring lamb you know, it would be a shame to miss out on it. It's expensive now because there's been no rain. You really would be supporting the farmers to buy it. They're doing it tough."

He shook his head to emphasize the point. The woman still considered.

Vince went on, "I remember one drought on our farm. The ground was dust, not a blade of grass anywhere. We had to sell the sheep, or what was left of them; dropped like flies they did. No rain. The creeks and dams dried up. We had to leave the farm in the end. It broke my dad's heart."

"Oh dear, how awful," said the woman.

"Yes, they say, rain is a gift from God. Well, I guess there are a lot of people praying out there now. Some of the farms here in Australia have been in the hands of the same families for generations, and

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