When I was trying to transition out of the temple service now that Srila Prabhupada had disappeared and I could not find service or shelter in the temple I didn't know what to do. In the temple service for fifteen years... how do I live? I will need money. I knew how to approach people for a donation for the temple, myself I only had pretty much what I was wearing and a couple changes of clothes. Now I would need somewhere to live, rent to pay, some sort of source of income.
I had operated one of the flower stands for the temple flower business, so I knew how to do that. Now I would have to do something like that for myself. I didn't want to work for myself, but what could I do? I would have to work for myself and still somehow be Krishna conscious.
I started with a handful of red carnations standing on a street corner. I remembered the story Srila Prabhupada told about the man who became very rich but started out with a dead mouse. The story goes:
A man wanted to start his own business but he had no money to begin with. He approached a friend to ask for a loan. The friend told him he didn't need a loan. There was money in the street and pointed to a dead mouse. At that time the government was paying two paisa for dead mice to try to study a plague that was spreading. He took the dead mouse and with the money bought some unwashed dahl. He washed the dahl and went door to door. He made four paisa. He went back with the four paisa did the same thing again and again and using that same principle became one of the richest men in India. It is a true story.
I thought, "If I sell even one or two that means I can sell more." I did. I sold two carnations for $.50 each. I began expanding it. Soon I had people working for me and we were on a few different corners. And it was not just red carnations but all sorts of flowers, lilies, tulips, bouquets, roses. Holidays like Valentines Day were overwhelming. But I saw that if I had to throw flowers away then I had lost some profit.
One day a woman approached me that she wanted to sell the flowers and she had an idea. If I would get the flowers for her and she would go in and out of the night clubs. She was certain we could make a lot of money. This was the perfect outlet for the left over flowers from the day. We could make huge bouquets instead of discarding them. Brenda was such a rare soul. Native American Cherokee, very overweight, a very gentle person. No education. But wise beyond beyond belief.
Nine years. We sold the flowers. They loved her in the clubs. She was everyone's mother. Our competition for night-club-flower-lady was always a sexy young women. But Brenda beat the competition out hands down. The owners wouldn't let anyone but Brenda inside. When she made her appearance in the clubs they rushed to her to get the flowers. We had balloons and little teddy bears.
At that same time I was maintaining a prasadam program that met once a week in a facility given to me by the city. A recreation hall with a kitchen. They advertised the program as Vegetarian plus, learning how to cook vegetarian. We would make something simple like puris, make an offering to Srila Prabhupada (that was the plus part to the Vegetarian plus) and then have a big feast. Sitting together and discussing life, health and Krishna consciousness. Playing Srila Prabhupada's bhajans and kirtans in the back ground. I would dress in full devotional regalia. It was free but donations always paid for everything. There were regulars and then I never knew who might just show up. The former mayor came one day and took a big bag of cookies. Yogis and seekers came out of curiosity. Street people came for a free lunch.
The manager of the recreation hall was transferred to another facility. She begged us to come with her but the facility was too far away and there was no kitchen.
The new manager was a demon. That was it. We lost the facility.
No comments:
Post a Comment