Good Fortune

The old woman facing me on the other side of the kitchen table watched with a smile on her face as I sipped my thick Turkish coffee. It was a treat I had come to look forward to every Saturday morning.

She looked far older than her years, her face wizened from days in the desert sun. Knees crippled from years scrubbing floors in a local shoe factory left her barely able to walk without assistance.

"Turn your cup over and tap the bottom three times. In a little while, I'll tell your fortune."

I was intrigued and slightly nervous as we finished our homemade toast with wrinkled black olives and soft basket cheese. What would my future hold?

"What do you see, Grandma?"

"Your greatest desires will come to you very unexpectedly."

"When Grandma, when?"

"When you are old enough, my child."

I left her house, full of love, hope, and good fortune.

The taste and history of my Armenian heritage lingering on my tongue.