Primary Sources

Since I have my own house now, my mom asks me kindly each time I'm visiting if I'd like to relocate my stored boxes of belongings that age back to my elementary school days. Each time I'm here I organize them a bit, throw a few things out, take a couple of photos or writings with me, and then leave the rest for the pleasure of perusing the next time I'm home. Tonight, mom and I opened the door to the closet at the end of the stairs, the one where all memories are stored and things not remembered for years come to life. There I found treasure after treasure. My parents high school diplomas. My mother's "Neither Tardy Nor Absent" certificates. My kindergarten report card. A second grade story published in the Young Author's booklet. Physical fitness awards. A report on the jack rabbit. Birthday cards from my sixth grade classmates. And my sticker book. My beloved sticker book.

Two other items of interest to me were the bibles that my older sister and I had used for confirmation. Both with red leather covers and gold edging on the pages. Both used and worn. In the front of my bible, I had practiced my name three times. Within the pages I located my catechism, a filled out visitor's card, the 1990 Twins schedule, and a church envelope with New Kids On The Block and each members name written in block letters across the front. Likely evidence of how I passed the time during confirmation class.

In Becky's bible, I found no pieces of paper. No doodles, notes, inserts of any kind. Instead, written on the first page was Becky's name along with the names of six of her classmates. Under each name, a phone number. Evidence of how she passed the time. And one basic difference between us.