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The Purpose-Walk

Estelle knew she had to hurry up if she wanted to get this finished on time. Normally not one to dawdle, she had taken far too long on this matter and now was in danger of losing out. Walking down the street, her quick steps clicked with an urgency that even the steady rain and growing puddles could not muffle. Head held high, shoulder back, arms swinging ever so-slightly this was her purpose-walk. It was the walk she used whenever there was a crisis or urgent matter that needed to be dealt with. Today was just such a day for just such a crisis.

Darn those street lights, and darn her mother for raising her to obey them! Anxiety rose in Estelle's chest and constricted her throat as she shifted her stance from foot to foot. The traffic signal was not going to listen to her silent prayers and urgings today. It ignored the impatient man beside her as he jammed his thumb into the pedestrian button over and over. She could hear her mother's voice chiding Estelle for not being better prepared for the things that life throws your way, and for leaving things until the last minute.

"Child, that is just like you to take so long to figure out what you need to do. If you would just think first and act later, you wouldn't be so jumpy all the time." The words tumbled around in Estelle's mind like spasmodic ping-pong balls.

Mama's words eventually led to Estelle's purpose-walk, and it had served her several times over her lifetime.

That silly traffic light was never going to change!

Estelle adjusted her purse strap more solidly on her left shoulder and gripped the part where the handle meets the pocketbook. She felt like a soldier preparing for not so much a battle, but a tactical maneuver that pretty much summed up Estelle's life. She might as well use this time productively. When had she first choreographed the purpose-walk?

It was a late spring day after her freshman year at college. She had pleaded and cajoled with Mama to bring a new friend over for dinner and Mama said that would be wonderful. Mama made Estelle's brothers and sisters dress especially for the occasion, and Papa wore his best Sunday clothes. This was the first boy coming to visit Estelle and he was a college boy who had come from Atlanta to Boston to study at Harvard.

"I can't wait to meet this fine young man. He sounds like a real prize." Mama said as she fixed Papa's tie.

"Oh Mama, I am sure you will like him. He is funny, caring, and smart, plays three

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