There was a long line of people waiting to say goodbye to our friend Aladdin on his last day at our Farmer’s Market, where he has been a valued fixture for several years. Aladdin is from Egypt, and his wife Natasha is from Ukraine.

When the war broke out, their children and grandchildren became refugees fleeing the country for their lives. The children and a granddaughter made it to Poland with nothing but clothes on their backs and a suitcase.

Aladdin and Natasha had opened a Slovenian Cafe in Troy, N.Y., but the cafe didn’t survive the pandemic.

They worked day and night to make salads and hot meals for several farmer’s markets in the area, including ours. We stopped to see him every week.

We helped raise $10,000 to get their family to the United States. Friends from Troy started a GoFundMe campaign for the family; we supported it. Natasha moved to Brooklyn to be with her grandchildren and daughter; Aladdin stayed behind to finish this farmer’s market season.

Aladdin is one of the sweetest and most gentle men I have ever met. We connected with one another, even though he didn’t speak too much English.

We laughed and joked, he kidded me about my diabetic requirements, and he was grateful for the money we raised that helped get his family to this country.

Their stories of violence and suffering were blood-curdling.

Aladdin says he will take the winter off, and he and Natasha are considering opening a Slovenian cafe in New York City.

I hope that works out for him; I can see how these past few years have exhausted him; he brings trays and trays of Slovenian feet and casseroles and salads to the market; I can only imagine how long it must take him to make all that food.

He has become a popular and much-liked figure at the Farmer’s Market, pulling up in his old gray van with baskets and warm food containers. Thanks to him, we had many a good meal, especially in the winter when the market moved indoors. For all his troubles and hard work, he has never complained or sounded bitter or angry.

I  stopped to say goodbye today; he blew me a kiss, gestured in thanks, and we hugged farewell. Seeing the long list of people from the town signing goodbye cards and waiting to say goodbye was touching. It is unlikely we will ever meet again, but I wish him every good luck; he certainly deserves some.

I will certainly miss him and I marvel at how life works sometimes. The good news is that he will get a rest and that he, Natasha, and their family will finally be reunited. If complex work means anything, they will do well in Brooklyn.

War is an awful thing. Thanks once again to those of you in the Army of Good who helped make the world a better place.

The last sale at the Cambridge Farmer’s Market for Aladdin.