My mother’s purse is my friend. Since when the old notes such as the currencies of 5s, 10s, 100s, coins and the three folding umbrella are in her purse she doesn’t know. She will get all the changes in it and it has thousand bills, house keys, small towels, wipes, comb, water bottle, prayer book and whatnot.
All my small needs come from this. She will not change her purse. Day by day it became heavy like a stone which she carries on her shoulder.
Most important is that she has a bad frozen shoulder. Though repaired, it gives her a lot of pain.
Still the purse will not change. If I ask her,when we are out, that, “let me carry it Ma for sometime”, she doesn’t agree. So happened what, we went to the market and I was not well. She wanted oranges and apples for me to buy.
You know nowadays plastics are banned and in a paper bag, the fruit seller gave us the oranges and apples, but it could not carry all the fruits. Two apples were left out. Ma told no problem, I am keeping these two apples in my purse. As soon as she had put the apples in the purse, the strap came out. We felt awkward. Both of us. Mummy and me felt sad. Holding the purse like a small baby, adored in mother’s arm we went to the cobbler. The cobbler was busy mending someone other’s shoes.
My mother told him the problem and he took the heavy purse from my mother’s hand. That time I could read her mind. That she was apprehensive, that purse with all its content was in someone else’s hand. The cobbler stitched the strap properly and he kept the purse on the footpath, it caught dust. My mother asked him to wipe the purse out of that dust and you will not believe, that from his personal bag he took a neat and clean white towel. Like my mother cares for the purse, he cleaned it with all care.
He understood Ma’s feelings and has a good heart and strong character and was very calm and composed. We paid him twenty bucks and Ma was overjoyed. She told me that honesty and culture does not only belong to those who are in better condition. She was very happy and grateful that her old purse was taken care by the great cobbler’s own neat towel. She told me as soon as you reach home, you must write a post on it. So I have done.