Keeping Our Promise

The sun was shining brightly, hitting her well-worn face. She opened them slowly, her eyes moving towards the calendar she had set up in her room. She saw the date circled on her calendar, and her eyes brightened and started twinkling. She moved her well-worked legs to sit up, stretching, hearing her joints pop. She let out a sigh of bliss. “Here we go!” She pushed herself off the bed and walked towards her old brown dresser. She had to pull a bit harder to open the drawers, but this was her favorite dresser she had had since she was a teen. She found her undergarments and went to the closet door, pulling it open to see a beautiful blue dress. The one she saw long ago and finally had the courage to buy. She put it on the bed and went to get herself ready for the day. She washed her face and brushed her teeth. She smiled brightly at her expression. She grabbed the dress and put it on, twirling around smiling, seeing herself as a twenty-year-old once more in the mirror.

“Why, Mary-Anne, don’t you look ravishing,” she told herself, laughing. She smiled at an old photograph she kept by her bed. She grabbed her sunhat and her bag that contains her books, pens, and the photograph. She strolled away into the street towards the diner that she usually frequented. She sat, buzzing, looking around. It was only 7 am but the world seemed so bright. Her favorite waitress, Whitney, appeared with her usual coffee. “Why, Mary-Anne, you look so pretty today! Oh! It’s today, isn’t it? Are you excited?” Whitney asked, looking at Mary-Anne with a gleeful expression. Mary-Anne nodded, her smile spreading across her rosy cheeks. “Yes, it is! Oh, very much so, but I wonder if it will go well,” Mary-Anne started fidgeting her fingers, looking down shyly. Whitney patted her back and yelled back towards the kitchen, “Marcus! It’s Mary-Anne’s big day; get her a good big breakfast!” Mary-Anne looked up, shocked as Whitney smiled.

Marcus, a big, burly man, came out with a plate filled with eggs, sausage, pancakes, and fruit. In the chocolate writing, it said ‘Good Luck Mary-Anne’. Mary-Anne beamed, eyes watering, “Thank you all so much.” Mary-Anne ate as much as she could with her weakened teeth and drank her coffee. She called Whitney over to pay, only to find out that it was a gift from the staff. Mary-Anne put a hand over her heart and thanked them.

She walked with a pep in her step as the children walking to school stopped to greet her, waving at her enthusiastically. “Good morning, Mrs. Roberts!” They would say loudly as they passed. She walked slowly, watching the youths running and laughing. Some would pass by and hand her a flower, wishing her good luck. She smiled and continued on her way. She walked up to a building and stopped. Now that she is here, can she do it? Biting her lip, she almost turned around. Then a small voice, similar to her own, said softly, “You can do it, Mary-Anne.” Closing her eyes, breathing in the fresh air and listening to the children's laughter, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and her heart skipped a beat as she opened them again. Stifling her nerves, she walked into the building. In the office, they handed her a sheet of paper and a name tag. She was then brought into a room, where others like her were sitting down. Some are aged by the sands of time like her, and some are young like fresh flowers. On her left, someone like her was sitting, his books neatly placed. He was nervously wiping his glasses, his face worn from many passing years. On her right, a young mother soothing a child in a stroller, quietly speaking with a tremble. Her backpack at her side was crowded with books and baby bottles. She smiled at them. She found her desk, and on it was a piece of cake that said, “Welcome!” with a piece of candy. Her name was neatly written on a name plate. She sat down, took out her books, and looked towards the front.

She took out a single paper, and she grabbed her pencil, hands shaking, trying to write her name, the one she wrote a million times before, but different now. She let out a breath, "You can do it, Mary-Anne. You're already past the door." She let the pencil glide across her paper and wrote in the neatest handwriting she could muster, Mary-Anne Price. Her name. The name that belonged there among her peers. She marked the day. A soft smile played on her lips as she saw others do the same. Today is the day she was waiting for. For a very long time.

“Welcome, everyone. Thank you for coming. Let’s start our first day. My name is Annabelle Watson.” The nice young woman came to the front and wrote on the board. She knew her, older now but with the same smile of the young girl who sat on her porch talking about educating the world. “Welcome to your first day of school.” Mary-Anne took out her pen and looked at the old picture in her wallet of a young girl smiling with her eyes watering. “I’m doing it, young Mary; I’m going to school too. I am going to keep our promise.” She turned back to the teacher, writing the topic of discussion on her sheet of paper. “Now, tell me what brought you all here today?” Ms. Watson asked, looking towards Mary-Anne. A smile playing at her lips. “Ms. Mary- Anne?” Mary-Anne smiled, looking at her young self next to Ms. Watson beaming towards her. “A promise to a very important person.” Young Mary-Anne was waving at her. “We are doing it, Mary-Anne. We are finally here.” Wiping the single tear from her eyes, she started again on the best years of her life.