Neighbors

by Rod Smith

Readers have been telling me friendship stories. 

I think it is a good thing to reflect on goodness. 

There are two men, Keith Jamieson and Adam Bergesen, whom I want to write about this morning. They were neighbors; men who came almost daily to my mom and dad’s shops at 161 Blackburn Road in Red Hill.

In those days customers stood in front of the counters. Shopkeepers would have to get everything the customer wanted, place it on the counter, wrap items in a brown paper bag, total up prices on scrap paper and then “ring it up” on the till and then cash would change hands.

Sometimes the shop was very busy and so Adam and Keith began to help themselves.

They’d come behind the counter, get what they needed, cut cheese, slice polony, wrap and measure, add up what they owed, ring themselves up, pay, take whatever change they were owed and be gone.

It wasn’t too long before they were able to serve customers to help out when things were very busy. There were times they’d run the shop when dad and mom needed a break.

Adam and Keith loved my parents, recognized their hard work.

I, in return, loved them, but that was very hard for a young boy to understand or admit.

Now I can, and I do.

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