A “lemonade stand” in Skopje
On a recent trip to Macedonia, I encountered something I had never seen before in my nearly 28 years of being in and with Macedonia: a group of five young boys, maybe 10, 11 years old, had set up a “lemonade stand” on a sidewalk in the Karpos neighborhood of Skopje and were selling drinks, namely some type of berry juice and water. I call it a “lemonade stand” because that is a phrase familiar to many; a makeshift (or “pop-up” as they call it these days) “shop” to sell a product and earn money. Their “shop” consisted of three wooden pallets serving as a front and sides, with the kids behind the “counter,” a wooden plank between the pallets, on which their products were placed. On either side of their makeshift shop, were handwritten signs on cardboard in both Macedonian and English, with their product offerings and prices as well as the name of their shop: A-Food. They even had a logo to go with the name. Clever lads.
To be honest, I was blown away. First, because I had never seen young kids in Macedonia take the initiative to do something like this and second, because what they were doing told a story, the story of not just initiative, but of capitalism (and no, capitalism is not a dirty word). They took matters into their own hands, purchased bottles of juice and water from the grocery store (or perhaps took them from their parents’ refrigerators!) and then sold them. For a profit. They were charging 15 denars for a small plastic cup of juice or water; I gave them 35 that day.
As I walked away contemplating this scene and the enterprise of these boys, it gave me a bit of hope, something in short supply these days not only in Macedonia, but around the world. They could have been riding their bikes, playing sports or video games, or just mindlessly watching TV. But instead, they were outside, schoolboy chums doing something productive, something creative, something resourceful.
And now let me tell you the rest of the story.
The next day, still thinking about these kids, I told a Macedonian friend of mine about this encounter and, believing the boys might be out again, I told him we must go by and see if they were there. I wanted him to see this, to be encouraged, as well as hopeful. The group wasn’t there, but there was one lone boy from the group, manning the “lemonade stand,” signs still there along with the offerings.
My friend engaged this one boy, asking him what inspired them to come up with such an idea. And the boy said that he and his friends did this to – brace yourself – raise money for the poor. They had seen people less well off in their neighborhoods, and they had seen the small boxes in local grocery stores where one can deposit a few denars for those less fortunate. And these kids wanted to take a stand and do something to help. I gave the boy 100 denars that day for a cup of juice. My friend gave him a generous amount as well, and congratulated and encouraged the boy.
These kids were probably middle-class kids; my friend remarked to me, after we left, that the one boy we talked to wore basic clothing, had well-worn sneakers on his feet, and his bike was a standard issue bike that most 10-year-olds would have; nothing fancy, just the basics.
I hope there are kids like these boys around Macedonia engaging in similar acts of good, while learning valuable lessons. I know there must be because I know that there are many good Macedonian parents doing what they can to raise their children right and proper. And I am determined to find and witness scenes like this on future trips. I need to, if only to encourage my own soul.
And I was encouraged that day and I’m still encouraged as I write this. My friend was encouraged as well, and I know he told the story to his own children that night. I hope that those boys were encouraged, and I hope that, as long as the weather is good, they have continued in their endeavors to do good for others, in turn learning valuable lessons for themselves; first, about the joy of helping others in need, and second, lessons about how to take responsibility, learn a skill (sales is a skill, after all), and earn money. Kudos to their parents for raising good kids. I hope they grow up to become good men, good husbands, and good fathers, and that they – and those like them – will be a generation of leaders that Macedonia needs – and wants.