Sunshine Anne

Product Type:	Fishing Tackle Box
Material:	PP
Model Number	HL-YA765
Modules	18 Compartments
Feature:	Eco-Friendly, Water Soluble, Other
Lock Buckle Colo	Black/White
Color:	White
Size	272x182x42mm

It was a cold winter night. The street was deserted. I stood alone under a tree with anentanglement of bare branches overhead, waiting for the last bus to arrive. A few paces off inthe darkness there was a shadowy figure squatting against the wall, but he turned out to be atramp.

The street was lined with fine houses, their illuminated windows beaming quietly towardsthe dark blue sky. It was icy cold with a gust of strong wind howling around. A couple ofwithered leaves, still clinging to the branches, rustled mournfully from time to tithe. The shadowy figure, taking a copper coin from me with thanks, straightened up to attempt a conversation with me.

"It's really cold here," he complained. "It couldn't be colder anywhere else ....What do you think,sir?"

Seeing that he was not too nasty an old man, I readily responded: "It must be colder in thecountry, I'm afraid."

No, no," he disagreed and began to cough, his words stuck up in his throat.

"Why?" I asked."In the country when it frosts, you always find the roofs and the fields turningwhite in the morning, but you don't see that here on the streets."

He patted his chest to ease off his coughing and went on excitedly:"True, true... it's cold in thecountry, but when you get into somebody's straw stack, you are warm again at once.... Butthis street, humm, what a terrible place! In the mountains, it's even colder, but when they havea fire in the house with the whole family sitting around it, wow, it's heaven!"
Then he began to relate to me the adventures of his younger days-travelling alone in winternights through the mountains in the south.
As I was interested in stories about wanderers andsince the bus had not arrived yet, I encouraged him to go on."When you end up in themountains at night," he said,"and if you are a decent person, you can always turn to the placewhere there is a light flickering and a dog barking.

"Sir, could you tell me why the people here even do not allow a countryman in to warm hishands? They must've got bigger fires in their houses. Look at their bright windows. . . "
The bus came rumbling up. Withdrawing my hand from his, I answered at the top of myvoice"Because they are more civilized than the mountain people. . . "
With that I jumped onto the brightly-lit bus which started moving on, leaving the old manbehind. But the little houses with flickering oil lamps in the remote mountains and theintoxicating warmth and friendliness of their inhabitants left a deep impress on my memory.