As a small child, I loved to carry around a tiny, black purse filled to the point that it is a wonder it never burst at the seams. I stuffed the purse with a flashlight, mini tape measure, pen, notepad, something to chew on, and my favorite trinket, a porcelain angel that I had confiscated from my mother. I took my purse with me everywhere. It held the necessities of my simple life, so that no matter where I went I was prepared to take on the world. I took it to church, to my grandma’s house, to the store, and to restaurants. It was inevitable, then, that it would accompany me to my sister’s first day of kindergarten. As we neared the playground, I walked confidently with my purse clutched tightly in my tiny fist. My purse was a shield of confidence, but little did I know that it would soon become the door to my heart as well.
My purse was a shield of confidence, but little did I know that it would soon become the door to my heart as well.
It just so happened that a stranger would approach me that day. A small, blonde haired girl with soft green eyes and creamy skin sprinkled with milk chocolate freckles ran towards me donning a smile that could melt ice encompassing even the coldest of hearts. That girl was Britney. It was her big sister’s first day of second grade. We began to share with each other about ourselves and, after a while, decided we would be friends. Although stubborn and determined, I was not the most outgoing little girl and, living on an isolated farm, I had received very few chances before that day to make any acquaintances before I started school. We immediately hit it off, though, and remained friends through elementary school and middle school. Today, even though we go to different high schools, we still keep in touch. Britney has been with me through the joy and through the tears. We have shared victories and disappointments.
After that day, Britney was no longer a stranger, and she possessed the keys to my heart. I had the keys to her heart too, and just like mine, hers was opened by a similar door. When Britney ran to me that day, she too was carrying an overstuffed, pint-sized purse. She exclaimed, “Hey, I have a purse too! Do you want to see what’s inside?” Her purse, just like mine, was filled with all her treasures. After we shared with each other about the contents of our purses for quite some time, she asked me, “Do you want to be friends?” On that special day, I was simply being myself and carrying around my little purse when I stumbled upon a friendship that would change my life. That is why I believe in the power of a pint-sized purse.