My summer job at a fish and chips store

As I grow older, I have noticed that many folks who have helped me along the way are passing on. I have yet another story to share.

I grew up in a friendly neighbourhood in Toronto. I went back there the other night to have dinner with my friend. We did a lot of reminiscing.

There used to be a fish and chips store a few blocks away from where I used to live. It was a family-run business. A Chinese couple owned and worked at the store for over thirty years.

When I was old enough buy an order of chips (fries) wrapped in newspaper for a dollar, I would visit the store after school. They were terrific.

A few years later, I asked my mom whether she could ask the owners if I could work for them that summer. My mom would often visit the store to get dinner. Sure enough, I got it. I had just turned eighteen years old.

I felt that I was slow learning about everything. However, my boss, Mary, had a chat with my mom and said the complete opposite -- that I was a quick learner and a hard worker.

I learned how to wrap fish and chips in newspaper. I even folded a number of open-faced newspaper holders for chips, so you could eat out of it as you walked. I honed my skills talking to and serving customers. I even learned about orange roughy.

The couple often insisted that I have dinner there. I felt odd about it. Eventually, I caved. It was delicious, as always.

The store closed just after I had earned my undergraduate degree. I have often wondered about the couple and how there were.

I decided to do a search. I learned that Mary had passed on in 2009 at the age of 72. She, like her husband, were kind and treated me like family. I regret not seeing them as much when my family had moved away a year after I had worked at the store.

May she continue to rest in peace.