Melinda
In high school I had a class with a girl named Melina. We had P.E. together one year, and her locker was right next to mine. She couldn't memorize the combination to her locker, so the teacher gave her a lock with a key, which she wore on a string, tied around her neck. I think it was the only key she had ever had.
Melinda was quiet, and not one to draw attention to herself. She could have been rather pretty if she had a cute hair cut that required no attention rather than the bob which probably looked really good when the stylist did it for her. Or, had someone told her, gently, that red lipstick wasn't her color (and never would be), but pink would work quite well — and then shown her how to put it on properly. Perhaps if her pants sat at her waist, or a bit lower, and the bottom at least touched the top of her shoes. All of that said, it wasn't her dress that effected me — it was her kindness.
While we were all making plans to go to college, or join the service, or move to the city and work as servers until our acting careers took off, or to not have plans at all, Melinda was too. I asked her once what she wanted to be when she graduated. She wanted to be a bagger at the local grocery store (that none of us knew was actually a chain). I asked her why (thinking to myself how sad it would be to do that for the rest of one's life). Her answer taught me a lot — that day, and years later. She liked people. She liked being around them and talking to them. She liked to help them and brighten their day. She wanted a job where she could do all of those things, and what better place than a grocery store in a small town. A place where everyone knows you, and being in your line might mean it takes an extra couple of minutes to get out of the store, but it makes them happy to see you happy.
I don't know what happened to her after graduation. I imagine that she is working there, in the dim light of the grocery store, calling regulars by their names and asking about their kids. I imagine that she has found a joy that so many of us will never find.
Why are we talking about her tonight? There is a woman who rides the same bus as I in the mornings who reminds me very much of Melinda (but a few years older). When I see her in the mornings I think of Melinda, and I smile. True joy can be found in the simplest places — it doesn't have to come with large paychecks or in big cities. In the end, it's about finding the true you.
Melinda was quiet, and not one to draw attention to herself. She could have been rather pretty if she had a cute hair cut that required no attention rather than the bob which probably looked really good when the stylist did it for her. Or, had someone told her, gently, that red lipstick wasn't her color (and never would be), but pink would work quite well — and then shown her how to put it on properly. Perhaps if her pants sat at her waist, or a bit lower, and the bottom at least touched the top of her shoes. All of that said, it wasn't her dress that effected me — it was her kindness.
While we were all making plans to go to college, or join the service, or move to the city and work as servers until our acting careers took off, or to not have plans at all, Melinda was too. I asked her once what she wanted to be when she graduated. She wanted to be a bagger at the local grocery store (that none of us knew was actually a chain). I asked her why (thinking to myself how sad it would be to do that for the rest of one's life). Her answer taught me a lot — that day, and years later. She liked people. She liked being around them and talking to them. She liked to help them and brighten their day. She wanted a job where she could do all of those things, and what better place than a grocery store in a small town. A place where everyone knows you, and being in your line might mean it takes an extra couple of minutes to get out of the store, but it makes them happy to see you happy.
I don't know what happened to her after graduation. I imagine that she is working there, in the dim light of the grocery store, calling regulars by their names and asking about their kids. I imagine that she has found a joy that so many of us will never find.
Why are we talking about her tonight? There is a woman who rides the same bus as I in the mornings who reminds me very much of Melinda (but a few years older). When I see her in the mornings I think of Melinda, and I smile. True joy can be found in the simplest places — it doesn't have to come with large paychecks or in big cities. In the end, it's about finding the true you.
posted by granola girl at 10:18 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home