
Growing up in San Francisco was great. There was always something to do and see, and one of my favorite things was going downtown with my mom. The cable car stopped around the corner from our flat, and we rode it to the end of the line, Powell and Market Streets. Where the Emporium stood directly across Market Street, a huge department store that my mom loved “The Big E.”
On nearly every visit, we saw an older man with a green-colored pushcart in front of The Emporium’s main entrance, selling flowers, specifically gardenias. I’ve always been fascinated by that flower (the one in the image here is from a plant I’ve nurtured at home), and each time we’d see him, I’d hound my mom for change to buy one for her.
She paid for herself; how gallant of me to ask my mom for money to give her a flower. I don’t remember if the gardenias cost a dime or a quarter, but they were top-notch, complete with a beautiful green wrapper around the stem and a pin to attach the flower to your date, in this case, my mom. She always admired it and thanked me for such a lovely present.
Thanks for everything, Mom.
