Fundak

We met at the Turkish delight store in Toronto on downtown Yonge Street. The night she walked in, the store was empty of customers, just me at the front and my colleague, who was spending time at the baklava counter at the opposite end of the store. I wasn’t planning on making any sales for the rest of the evening since it was after 8 p.m.

I was passing time, arranging and rearranging some small confectionary squares – desperate for some change in routine until it was time to close for the evening.

It happened. This beautiful, amber-skinned woman walked in. She was wearing her hood up because it was a very windy night. She was exotic by most standards, almond-shaped eyes, wearing no make-up, and she had a warm smile when she walked up to the counter to greet me. Being that English is not my first language, I am a bit shy how I speak to strangers, but more importantly, I had never spoken with a woman of color before, not in my country, Ukraine. I didn’t know if I was saying things right in her language.

The woman was curious about the display of technicolor confections. I talked to her about the differences and offered her samples to taste. She was reluctant to take these small offerings because she didn’t want to sample without making a purchase. I assured her that we do it all the time.

She asked a lot of questions about what was in the different types of treats in the case. Chocolate, hazelnuts, walnuts, sticky pistachios. She said that she loves nuts, so I gave her a taste of two items that she seemed to enjoy.

We got to talking about other things besides the origin of the store and how things are made. How she likes the candies with the white sugar coating, the square ones with the roasted almonds, and so on. I shared with her the history of some of these treats, and we switched topics to more personal conversation.

She presumed because of the store that I was from Turkey. I explained that I came from Kyiv six months before. My family had scraped together money to get me to safety. I had been trying to get familiar with the culture and said I was living near the area that many Ukrainian people live in Toronto. She said she lived in that area when she first moved to Canada over 35 years ago to get married. She was born in the United States.

In no order, we started talking about Europe, maybe because it reminded her of one of her adult sons who had returned home from Texas in 2022 with a medical issue. She was taking care of him despite the fact she had been laid off since the previous spring. She has another adult son who was seriously ill and had been on life support. He had been taken good care of by the doctors and nurses at Toronto General Hospital, also in 2022. She was not complaining or depressed, she just said she had to get on with it. They were both doing much better, and she was grateful they were happier now. The pandemic had not been kind to so many people, in her family's case and for many mental health had triggered illnesses.

She said that one son and his girlfriend had passed through Türkiye on their way to Croatia for their annual summer trip to Europe. She seemed pleased that she remembered this is how the country should be pronounced.

We danced around the subject of American politics, but we did get into a deeper discussion around funding for Ukraine. She was reluctant to bring it up very much since she didn’t want to compare her personal struggles with that of my family and countrymen who are living during a war.

She said it was so tragic but inspiring to see Ukrainians working together to stop the Russian invasion of my country. That mothers and grandmothers were helping in whatever way they could. She wants Ukraine to win.

I don’t remember when exactly, but I said that I send money home to my family. I send what I can maybe $100-$200 Canadian a month. She didn’t say anything more other than it was humbling that I spoke perfect English and was able to be strong being here on my own, and to help my loved ones.

She said she should get going, thirty or more minutes had passed since she walked in. She ordered some items from my counter, walked to the back of the store to my colleague, and added to her purchase by taking a small assortment of baklava for her son. Before she left, she apologized that she never asked me my first name. I told her it is Vadym. She told me her name is Melissa. I said that is a very nice name. We said our final goodbyes and she promised to visit again to check in on me.

We had a snowstorm in Toronto for a couple of days. She had mentioned she only takes public transportation.

Exactly four days later, my friend Melissa, came back to Fundak. This time the store was very crowded. I didn’t see her right away, but she waited until I was not busy with customers.

She greeted me again, and quietly asked for a minute.

Melissa handed me an envelope and said if there was some place to store it safely. She insisted that I take it and make sure not to lose it, because it had money inside. I refused, but she said that it was a token of what she could do to help me, and my family in Ukraine. I really didn’t feel right to take it, but Melissa said consider it a belated holiday present. She said that if I didn’t want to keep it, to send it to my family in Ukraine, to help them.

Later, when I opened the card, inside was sixty dollars and a note how Melissa said it was so nice to meet me and so on. She just gave her email address. I wrote to her and said this:

Subject: Letter from Vadym

Hello, dear Melissa.

thank you very much for such a nice gesture. At such moments I understand that there are still real people on this planet, I was very pleased to receive your letter. I want to apologize that it took me so long to answer you, I got sick and didn’t feel well and I had to take a few days off from work, but now everything is fine. you are a very bright and good person, I wish you and your family all the best! I'm glad I met you, I really enjoyed our conversation too

Best regards, Vadym

Melissa wrote back again – March 2024

Hello Vadym!

It’s so nice to hear from you. You’re welcome and I’m glad to hear that you’re feeling better.

You’re a very kind and special person and it is a privilege to know you. I wish good things will happen in your life and I hope to see you again soon. I will keep you and your family in my prayers.

Melissa wrote back again – September 2024

Hello, Vadym!

I hope everything is going well. I've been peeking in at the store from time to time to check in with you. Sadly, you were not on shift.

It's been awhile since we talked so I'm hoping your family is still safe in Kyiv.

I've been doing some part-time work so my hours are flexible. Let me know when you're going to be on shift and I'll try to come by during your work hours.

Until then, take good care of yourself.

Best regards,

Melissa

I wrote to her and said this:

Hello Melissa. I was thinking about you recently, that you haven't come for a long time, unfortunately I quit my job a few weeks ago and moved to another city. I am in XXXXXXX now, but this does not prevent us from continuing to communicate, since you are a very good person. How are you?

We’re talking again from my new city. We shared opinions about the debate the other night, and we are both hoping that Ukraine wins the war.