“‘People always think that happiness is a faraway thing,’ thought Frances, ‘something complicated and hard to get. Yet, what little things can make it up; a place of shelter when it rains—a cup of strong hot coffee when you’re blue; for a man, a cigarette for contentment; a book to read when you’re alone—just to be with someone you love. Those things make happiness.’”
—A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Attending a Farmer’s Market on a Saturday morning is one thing that to me is a simple happiness. Something about the gray sky with a drizzle of rain falling down, gives me a cozy and warm feeling. Walking down rows of bright produce while sucking on a sweet honey stick is a feeling that modern grocery stores never give. If I had my way I would go to a Farmer’s Market every month. All the other Saturdays are reserved for sleeping in. I guess I am your typical teenager in that area.