Boundless

"Some people want to be bank presidents. Other people want to rob banks."

–Richard Ford

1880

The fabric was delicate so I had to handle it carefully. I feared that one tear would ruin the whole thing. If I wasn't marrying Ezra, I would wear it to my wedding, too.

For two hours I sat sewing on the sash and reattaching buttons. I only stopped because it was Jenny's lunchtime. Our usual schedule was to sit and talk while she ate then she could rest for the remainder of the afternoon.

Jenny's was not the only case in town. My father visited others. His job as pastor required it. Two streets down lived an elderly lady and her son. She had recovered from tuberculosis after three years and a revolutionary operation. This gave us hope for my sister. For six months we had saved up and tightened our belts.

In a six month span we were only a quarter of the way there. I had tried to tell my father that putting the money in a bank would generate interest and we'd get there sooner but he wouldn't hear it. My father needed to physically see the money.

I was planning on taking the test to become a teacher. I could have taken it when I turned sixteen in April but I wanted to be sure. We would lose time if I failed it. Every night I would study for an hour by the fire before bed. I decided I was going to take it on my seventeenth birthday.

My dress was done. My fingers hurt from all the stitching but it was worth it. If this party somehow helped Jenny, I would do it.