My sister and I have always been suckers for hidden pathos. I’ve never properly investigated just what makes a moment heartbreaking, but I think it mostly has to do with someone going to a lot of trouble and it just not working out for them. The unacknowledged care is what is so heart wrenching.
The elderly fellow sitting alone on a park bench holding a little sack of seeds he’s brought from home but the ducks are off scoffing some kid’s Wonder White.
The market stall owner who has lovingly handmade every single item in her shop but has sold almost nothing at the end of a busy day.
Candlelit tables and apron-smocked waiters in an empty restaurant at dinner time.
Every time the tears well up a little. All that effort and no one seems to notice or care.
I had my own mini-moment today. I was asked to make some things for the school fete cake stall and instead of just making a carrot cake / caramel slice / lamos combo, I had to go to that extra bit of trouble, didn’t I? I spent ages making chocolate dipped cake pops with little sticks and ribbons. And chocolate wholegrain biscotti lovingly wrapped up with string like a gift.
Well, when I left only one of each had been sold. It was so stressful watching them sit there while boring old glad-wrapped fruit loafs got snapped up smartly. Nobody seemed to want my little creations. I know it’s probably because they were all thinking ‘what the hell is a cake pop?*’, but still.
* Not you too? You can find out what a cake pop is here. I think I am an early Aussie adopter of this Bakarella phenomenon and they’re just not taking off here in the way I expected…