by Melinda Barr

Created on: January 25, 2009

Mavis Made My Heart Cry

I first encountered Mavis one spring morning while I was meandering down the main street of our small town. It was one of those lazy sunny days and I was out for a walk with no real destination in mind. She was sitting on a street bench in front of a boarded up, abandoned storefront. She was a petite lady, just a bit shy of 5 feet, although her stooped shoulders made her seem smaller than she actually was.

I smiled and nodded politely as I passed, but really never gave her another thought. The next time I saw Mavis, she was outside the local pizza parlor, sitting on the bench nestled between the front door and the trash can. As mine was the only car in the parking lot, I just assumed she was passing by and had just stopped to rest. And so went our encounters, back and forth throughout the days to follow.

As days grew to weeks, and weeks to months, I began to note that Mavis was to be found nearly every single day sitting out front of the same empty storefront on Main Street, on what I began to think of as "her" bench. The more I took note of her, the more my curiosity grew. She was always dressed in one of only two outfits I had ever seen her in. I had never seen her smile or show much interest in the people around her. Her hair, while always combed, was obviously uncared for in the cleanliness department. Her clothes were often spattered with stains and a bit ragged.

Being somewhat of a softy, I began to ask around a little bit to see what I could find out about Mavis. I was kind of surprised to discover that Mavis had been a resident in the same location for over fifty years. According to locals she was anywhere between 75 and 85 years old; no one was really certain. After quizzing many people, I ascertained that although Mavis had been a resident her for over five decades, no-one in our small town either knew her directly or knew anything much about her.

A few times on my now choreographed "walks", I would frequently sit down beside her on the bench. I found out very quickly that Mavis was a woman of very few words and didn't really appreciate any of my attempts at casual chit chat. I began to slowly notice how very alone Mavis was, but didn't really know what I could do about it. Every attempt I made at being friendly was rebuffed.

I kept having these thoughts that even today make me cringe. I was thankful that it wasn't my mother or grandmother sitting out there on that bench, alone, day after day. I wondered where she lived and how she

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>