“When I was a boy I’d skip school to sell roses on the street. My parents gave up trying to educate me. They said: ‘He’s lost his mind over the roses.’ I wanted to be around flowers all the time. I sold so many that I opened my own kiosk across from a famous country club. But I could never sell on Fridays. The police would close our entire street so the governor could visit the club. But once I ignored their instructions. It was the day before Mother’s Day. My biggest day of the year. So I took a chance and remained open. When the police found out, they confiscated all my flowers. They even took my license. It was a fatal blow. All my money was in those flowers. I had piles of them. So I had to start from zero. I’m a street vendor again. For awhile I was ashamed, but I’m fine with it now. It’s better than working for someone. I buy the roses I want, and sell them to whoever I want. Maybe I’ll have a shop again. But as long as I’m around my roses, I’ll always feel peaceful.” (Cairo, Egypt)
