THE DIME STORE LOST IT'S SPARKLE

THE DIME STORE LOST IT'S SPARKLE (A LEGACY STORY) Dedicated to "Pepper"

In the core of each person regardless of age, is the one thing, person or place that holds some magic for your life. For some it may be only the dream of the magic while others may realize that dream and experience the magic to its fullest. Or, as in my case, one may realize the magic and have it taken away never to be replaced.

In the forties our small town had a very traditional town square. I loved it as all the businesses of any great consequence were aligned on that square. One of the businesses held the greatest fascination and indeed, once I had been inside, I found it was a place of magic.

Often we had to go to the drug store which was usually connected to a time of illness for one of us in the family. These were not times I looked forward too and usually I would prefer to sit in the car and wait for my mother to return with some foul liquid medicine for my ailment or forthat of my sister. We were plagued with ear infections, sore throats and for me, the evil asthma.

Sitting in the car across from the pharmacy was not a wasted time. My mother usually parked in front of the "dime store" and I would watch people going in and out. The large plate glass windows were decorated with whatever holiday decorations were coming up and they were always bold and colorful. At Christmas, they were full of sparkle and glitter and I would imagine all kinds of beautiful things inside, if only I could go in.

On one particular day, my mother decided to make a stop inside the dime store to purchase thread for a dress. In the years ahead she would talk about the beautiful dress she hand stitched with thread she purchased that day. For more than a month she had saved to get the 16 cents it would cost.

Mother talked with me about how I would behave in the store and the consequences I would suffer if I embarrassed her. I knew I would act perfect because I wanted more than anything to see the inside of that store. I had seen the wares that came out as purchases and I could only imagine what all might be contained inside.

The large swinging doors were too heavy for me to push but my mother helped and I walked inside with great expectations. I was not disappointed. Large ceiling lights hung down and glowed like a sunny day inside. Large wooden cabinets, only as high as my head, were in rows throughout the store. Neatly stacked on varying cabinet displays were evenly spaced rows of precisely folded clothing, linens, towels, and pillow cases. The next rows held dishes and cookware while further back were some toys. I couldn't wait to get to the back of the store.

Tugging at mother's arm I tried to move her along. She had been called by name and was heading to a large glass counter near the exit doors across the room. I was disappointed as I wanted to go back to the toys as soon as possible so I could see all of them before I left the store.

I reluctantly turned to trudge along with my mother as she approached the lady at the glass counter. To my absolute delight I saw that the glass counter was filled with glass shelves. The shelves were glittering with the sparkle of jewelry. There were necklaces, watches, broaches, and rings. My eye went to a special shelf that had a display with small children on it. They were modeling jewelry and on that shelf I saw small versions of the jewelry that my mother and grown up ladies wore.

Good grief! I had never realized they made jewelry just for children. I feverishly began to look and search every piece for just the right thing. I had been to a movie and saw beautiful female movie stars wearing sparkling jewels so ever since that time I had the great debate in my mind whether rubies, emeralds, sapphires or diamonds were best. I couldn't tell because the movies were in black and white, but here I could see the colors vividly and now the choice of which was best grew even harder.

I never considered walking out of the store owning any of the pieces. Ours was not the kind of life where you got what you wanted, but you still could have an opinion so I continued to search for just the right piece of jewelry. The one that would be the most magnificent if I owned it.

I could tell mother was ending her conversation as I struggled to resolve the dilemma in my mind. There were small bracelets with matching necklaces, and there were small necklaces with matching rings. What caught my eye was the tray of just rings. Rings of every color. All the "rubies" were together, emeralds together and each color of stone was in a section all it's own.

Then I saw the prize. The one thing that stood out as the greatest sparkle and the most beautiful ring. There was only one. I pressed my face against the glass trying to get as close to it as possible. My hands held on to the top of the counter ledge and I stood mesmerized as the light in the counter played into the sparkles of this ring. It was the only one that had all the colors of the rainbow. It was like a diamond that cast off all the color of the rainbow. I had never seen anything like it.

As mother nudged me to move on I still was interested in going to the back where the toys were but that mission had lost its urgency. I was completely fixated on that ring and it's beauty and wondering if I could save enough to buy it like mother saved enough for her thread. I was a little deflated when in response to my question about the cost of the ring my mother told me it was 25 cents. Why that was more than she had been able to save. So I knew it would remain a beautiful pretend thing I slipped into my daydreams.

Mother took her time wandering in and out of the rows of merchandise. She spent a lot of time at the material counter and I began to get restless. I wanted a drink and I tugged at her skirt and asked to go over to the doorway where I had spotted drinking fountains. She allowed me to move over there under her watchful eye as it was nearby.

There were two fountains side by side. Each made of a hard white ceramic material they were much like I was accustomed to at school. The fact that there were two made me think this place must get lots of customers to need two. I started to get a drink then I noticed a sign that had a word on it and the water spout was covered so you couldn't use it. So,I used the one that worked and drank more than usual as it was fun to drink from a fountain instead of a glass.

Mother was ready to move to the last displays; the toys. I was quickly by her side and thought that I had a small glimpse of a child's version of what heaven should be like. There were baby dolls in bonnets and matching dresses and wearing shoes that looked like shiny black patent.

Wow! I admired those shoes because I only got two pair a year. In the fall,I owned brown oxfords with shoelaces for school and in the spring, a pair of black patent shoes with straps and buckles for Easter and church. In the summer we went bare footed only wearing the black patents on Sunday. It was usually a challenge as our feet would have grown through the summer and there would be holes in the bottom of the thin soles .

There were wind up toys brightly painted, monkeys that smiled and clowns that popped out of Jack-in-the-boxes when you turned the crank. I particularly liked the Cupie Dolls and anything that was decorated with brightly colored feathers. There were two bikes; a blue one for boys and a red one for a girl. I was pretty sure I would never have one, but I figured that someone up the street would get one from Santa and I could ride it sometimes.

I already understood Santa had a problem with crossing the railroad tracks to where I lived. He would usually be out of toys or at least big toys. But as long as he came, I was happy.

One of the medical problems I was often treated for was urinary tract infection. Standing there I realized the urge to go was growing strong. I spoke to my mother with some urgency and put my legs together saying we needed to hurry. Bed wetting was one thing and private, but I didn't want to embarrass her by having an accident in the store. After all, she had warned me, and besides, I was old enough to be embarrassed for myself if that happened.

The bathrooms were near the fountains so we weren't far away. As I hurried along the hall I saw there was someone ahead of us. It looked like her little girl had the same problem as I did only worse. She was jiggling up and down, holding herself between her legs saying "Hurry momma, hurry." Her mother wasn't hurrying in the door. She looked stricken and tried to comfort her daughter. A grim lady who appeared to work at the store stood watching.

I looked up at my mother who was hesitating and looking at the scene before us. The other mother spoke, "You go on, we can't anyway". I didn't understand and thought it was because the mother saw I had to go as well. "It's ok, I can wait", I offered.

The two mothers looked silently at each other and I saw the other mother tear up. "We'll just leave out the back door" the other mother said softly.

My mother could not change the situation and stood helpless and holding my hand just shaking her head. I was led into the bathroom where I barely made it to the stall.

I would learn a great deal about life from that small incident. You see, the other mother and child were black, or "colored" as it was called in that day. In the segregated south where I lived there were separate drinking fountains and separate bathrooms for the races. When I had gotten my drink the fountain which I learned had the word "colored" above it was broken. Or as I was to learn, "always broken". The colored bathroom door had a sign on it that said "broken" as well.

I experienced in that moment a lesson I would never forget. The little girl who was so neatly dressed and had those plentiful pigtails was suffering the same pain and anguish I was. The very fact that her skin was black and mine was white would allow me to relieve my pain and remove the chance for embarrassment. She however would suffer the fate of racial prejudice played out at the lowest level. Hurting children.

I have no doubt that her mother barely got her out the back door before she was wet all down her legs and I imagined her crying. Her embarrassment was not just momentary, I am sure it followed her through many life events.

In later times I would realize the reason the store had two fountains and my school only had one, was because we were segregated racially. Whenever I used the fountain at school I would be reminded of that incident feeling a genuine embarrassment inside that I had privileges that were mine even though I was poor and lived on the wrong side of the tracks. All because I was white.

The "Dime Store Had Lost It's Sparkle" from the moment the realization came to me about the fate of a small black girl who had a need to go to the bathroom. I would never think about that ring favorably or with desire again.

I would never enter that store again ,even as an adult without remembering that day. I realized that you can see things that sparkle and glitter under the light, but within the true surroundings are ugly and sordid realities of what something is really about.

It was from this lone experience that I began to be aware of the injustice and the hardship that prejudice wreaks on its targeted victims. For me, first grade would continue to be a learning experience in more ways than one. My social conscience would grow in leaps and bounds ahead of my academic pursuits.

Throughout my lifetime I would struggle to open the eyes of the tormentors and the persecutors. I had hope they would not have to be put in like situations to experience the actual pains of others to become empathetic and pro active in "unconditional love".

We are miracles my friends, We either leave legacies of light or darkness, of love or hate, of good or evil. But, we all leave legacies.