The White scarf...( To be continued)

A young man sat on a rock under a small bush of trees one bright summer's day. Clouds filled the sky as he watched from the shade under a lush of green leaves. His eyes squinted to see past the glare of the sun. There in the distance, was the figure of an old lady. She walked slowly with a slight limp as she sauntered along the road. Her hands hung heavy with a basket of bags overflowing with ripe fruit. Suddenly as if instructed, she placed the load down before her feet and wiped her forehead clean in the hot sun. She reached into one of the bags and pulled out a white scarf that had held a few mangoes within it. Then retrieving a small plastic bottle of water, she pored it gently along the worn edges of the scarf. Her hands pulled tightly as she wrapped it around head. Cool water slowly trickled down her wrinkled forehead. She picked up the basket of bags and continued on her way. The man wondered if she was going to the Market and thought he should relieve her of the burden. Thinking the woman to be too proud, he decided to follow a little of the way in case she needed some help. It was not long until the old woman turned down through a small, unpaved trail. 'This is not not the way to the Market' he thought to himself. 'Where could she be going?'The old woman walked on for a while then slowed down to stop near a little, round whole that had been dug into into the earth. She began to place her mangoes and some the other fruit inside while setting her white scarf around them. 'What in heaven's name could she be doing?' the young man thought again. The old lady looked on impatiently. 'What is wrong with this? She muttered to herself. She breathed deeply then re arranged the fruit carefully and stepped back again...(to be continued)