Worth a Reason

It was a tradition. We spent every Sunday thrift store shopping. It was our way to distress from the everyday woes of being a college student. We knew that everything in that store told a story and we found pleasure in piecing that story together. Usually, we went there with no mission In particular other than the joy that it brought us. However, this weekend trip was different. Ari was pledging Kappa and needed something white. I had my own reservations about her joining a society where the customs and protocols were so out of date but I kept them to myself. It was her life and if she wanted to wear a white dress surrounded by girls that looked nothing like her or knew of her struggle to get her it was her choice. I would be the friend she needed and help her stand out to the best of her ability. 

I let her comb through the dress section while I sat my eye on accessories. Henley was in charge of shoes. I had no idea whose idea it was but it was the task she was given. Henley had a knack for finding weird things, it was as if they called out to her through the clothes racks. No matter where we were in the store, she would hold up what she found taller than her person and shout our names to the ceiling to get our attention. We would pull away from what we were doing to make commentary on what she had found. 

I had to admit I was also shopping for myself. Yes, I was keeping my eye out for white bags to match whatever dress she would find but I was also searching for myself. I had always been a collector of purses that I would probably only use once. However, combing through the isle only one caught my attention before my cart even turned the corner. It was a replica of the very first bag I had received. I was eight digging through my great grandmother’s closet and it fell directly on me. I wasn’t sure if it was the possible concussion from everything my GG kept in there or if it was true love at first glance. Whatever it was those feelings were replicated at the sight of this purse. 

I had to get it. It was worth suffering the wrath of Ari for the limited options I was able to obtain. I kept it separated from the things I acquired for her, after all, it did have white undertones buried within the pink purse. We had found an outfit for Ari while still finding some things worth the trip. We were off to our second tradition, stopping at the laundry mat near our favorite diner. We would eat and joke while our clothes washed and dried. However this time I didn’t want to put everything in. I kept the purse with me, afraid of what the wash could do to it. I combined through the pockets as the others loaded their washers. I was surprised by what rested in the purse pocket. 

A wallet, small in nature. I opened it hoping to find whom to return it to, all that was there was two dollars, two halves of a bus pass, and a photograph. It was rustic, the only color to it was the ware it had accumulated throughout the years. I sat gazing at it while my friends were distracted. I pulled it out hoping it would be clearer the closer I got it to my eyes. It was a woman not much older than me. She posed with her hand on her hip and a smile on her face, not one that was fabricated but caught in mid-laugh. 

She looked happy. I turned it over remembering the notes my GG would have written on the back of her photos to remind her of the feeling she had in them. Written on the back was her name, Mary. Under it marked the date and location, Montgomery, April 5th, 1956. Everything began to make sense, the rustic nature of the photograph, the two halves of the bus pass were a reminder of her protest. I remember learning about the Montgomery bus boycott from 1955 to 1956 but to hold in my hands an object that was there at that time was an indescribable feeling. 

I didn’t know what I should do and after a while, my friends caught on to my troubled gaze. I told them what I had found and each of them had different reactions. 

“You should post it!” Ari said gazing down at the picture in my hands. 

“Why would she do that? You should see if she is still alive, maybe she wants her purse.” Henley had the biggest heart of us three so it was of no surprise her choice would be one of sentiment. 

“It found me for a reason." I said, not a slight idea of what that reason was. Instead of subjecting myself to the next comments I placed the picture back in the wallet and changed the subject to one we would all enjoy. Lunch was one of our favorite things to do together. We practically ate lunch together every day, no matter each of our schedules we found a time to have lunch. 

As Ari once again brought up what getting into Kappa would mean for her, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mary. As I sat in the diner looking around at all the different types of people sitting and conversing with one another I couldn’t help but think of her. I sat here around her age, a woman of color in a small town made up of majorly individuals that would not understand my life it dawned on me. I was the reason. 

I smiled, almost as big as the one Mary had in her picture. I wasn’t sure if my friends had noticed or thought it was a reaction to what was happening. I was living the dream Mary had walked for, had boycotted the bus for, and had smiled even though her life was not as easy as it would have been now. She had two dollars to her name and yet she smiled. She wouldn’t have been allowed in this diner but yet she smiled, laughed, and fought. I am Mary’s wildest dream and there I realized that was the reason.