By Elizabeth Tang Grade 6
Rain dropped down the street, splashing the water mist up. In a corner of the city, a shopkeeper, who was a senior man, sat on a chair, repairing clocks. At this moment, the “tick-tock” of the clocks and the song from the radio blended into the air.
The people who went to this bell shop did not just go to fix their clocks, but more like to find their own “time”.
A man wearing a business suit rushed into the shop, breathing hurriedly while holding his electronic watch, and said: “Please help me to fix this; I am in a hurry!”
The shopkeeper smiled, “Don’t hurry, don’t pant, we have time.” The man sighed: “Since I got this job, I have lost all my time. My time has to be split into work time.” “You have time to rest now,” the shopkeeper said softly, and stood up, grabbing a chair for the man. “Sometimes we need to give ourselves a ‘breathing space The man nodded, as if he had already realized something. In the background, the steady tick-tock seemed to slow down, keeping pace with his newly found calm.
Repairing the clock was not trivial for the shopkeeper; after he fixed it, the sun had already gone down the mountain. However, the man really cherished the time he spent there; he had found his own time, not on the watch, but more like a resting time in his life.
The next day, an elderly woman came with her mantel clock. This clock was left by her partner, who had been gone for a year. The second hand of the clock was broken. Just like the woman, who felt like the minute hand, she said, “He left me, I just can’t believe…” The woman could not control herself anymore, and tears ran down her face. The shopkeeper sighed: “Everyone needs to face the truth. I am sorry for that.”
The shopkeeper gave the woman a cup of tea. “We need a new start, just like the clock; don’t stay in the past.” With the help of the shopkeeper, the woman finally showed a smile. She carried the fixed clock and went home, the sunlight shining on her face, just like her partner was just behind her, watching her. On the workbench, the clock that had been broken for a year now beat strongly, matching the quiet rhythm of healing.
After the woman left, a little kid ran into the shop and said to the shopkeeper: “My new watch is broken! This is my birthday present, please help me to fix it!” The shopkeeper smiled: “What a lovely child! I will help you; you don’t need to pay me this time.” The shopkeeper was doing his best to keep the “childlike heart” for the little girl. Many years later, when others asked him: “Why didn’t you ask for payment?” The shopkeeper replied: “Because, when the girl grows up, she will always remember how beautiful the world is if we try our best to help others.”
The tick-tock of the clocks never stopped, recording every moment of joy. One day in the bell shop, the shopkeeper passed away peacefully in his chair. The sunlight spilled on his face; everything was so calm, just as if they were mourning for the shopkeeper. At his funeral, many people came—men, women, and the girl who had grown up.” He found his own time,” people said.
