Miss Marry Stow.
“Good morning Miss Marry!” The little girl chirped with much enthusiasm. Today was a fevery Sunday morning, and after long hours of helping their parents around the farms, children often popped in to grab some candy. Marry loved it. She adorored watching their bright faces full of gratitude. Even if they received but one licorice, it meant a whole lot to them. It gave them happiness, and she was, of course, glad to provide them with such a thing.
She never charged any of them. The candy was free. When she was a little girl, she had no money to spend. Her Ma and Pa were as broke as broke could get. Watching other kids her age and older buy all those sweets broke her even more. Marry didn’t know it, but as her parents, too, witnessed her staring longingly at such delicious candies of the little store every time they went, it had chipped a little bit of their hearts away, too. Every parent, one could only hope, would want to ensure their own offspring are well treated and cared for. However, not every person is as capable of providing such things.
She recalled, and very clearly, the turning point of all that dread she felt. Little Marry _Galiant_, at the time, was standing there once more, and her mouth watered longingly. The chocolates and looked especially scrumptious that day. It wasn’t as though she was meaning for anybody to notice. All she was doing was imagining herself placing one of those caramel filled sweets into her mouth, slowly and savoringly. Like all the other kids would do.
The shopkeeper lady must have caught her. _“They look quite good, now don’t they?” _She had said. Marry nodded, snapping out of her fixation. Reality was back at it, her stomach empty with the lack of a lifetime craving. The little thing didn’t want to make it seem as though she were about to steal anything. She had backed away shyly. _“You can have one, dear, if you provide me with money.” _She had stated.
_“Got no money of my own, ma’am,” _helpless Marry replied with her eyes hidden behind long, loose locks of a messy braid.
_“Your folks?”_
She shook her head slowly. _“Broke as dog, ma’am.” _No, Marry was not looking for sympathy. But Miss Shoplady had seemed suddenly saddened. Her brows had come together. Then it made Little Galiant more uncomfortable, as a gaze of pure scrutiny tends to do. But not a negative sort of scrutiny. The little girls eyes had traveled off to her parents. Shoplady noticed.
“_Those your folks?” _She asked. Marry nodded reluctantly. Something of shame took her over. How old was she?—seven, eight? Imagine feeling shame towards you own parents—your own condition. One would have supposed it wasn’t unheard of. Such emotions were common.
Miss Shoplady swiftly stepped back behind her counter and began gathering all sorts of sweets into a bag. Marry stood and watched, knowing they were not for her, but wishing so. To her misleading, the kind lady had handed her the bag. It was full of such meraculate smelling things, and she didn’t care if it made her teeth rot as long as she could eat every single one. Her eyes lit up, but she old herself to not be greedy. _“For _**_me_**_?”_ The eleven year old had questioned.
_“Well now dear,” _the lady chuckled, _“I did hand them to you, didn’t I?”_
__
_“Oh, thank you _**_very much_**_, ma’am!”_ Marry exclaimed. Shoplady smiled brightly, her eyes watering. If anyone should be tearing right then, it would be Marry, but she was far too eager to cry.
Ever since that day, the nice lady—who she later learned went by the name Goldy Jones—had provided her with a free bag full of candies, just for her. Of course, she made sure no other customers saw. They would grow angry, even though they had enough money for a whole lifetime.
Marry took Miss Jones’ kindness to heart. She stored it close to her chest so it carved the person she was. All she needed was just a little kindness. Sometimes that’s all people needed.
That was why Miss Stow had taken over Goldy’s shop at her retirement, and why she provided every child since then, with a free bag of delectables, every Sunday.
“Here you go, dear.” She handed the little girl a bag full of chocolates.
“Oh, thank you very much, Miss Stow!” And then the little ting was out the door.
With every little boy or girl that came and went, she always saw herself in them—just a longing for something small to set their day a little better. Sometimes all it took was a small gesture of love. Without love, where would people all be?—not chowing down on delicious, free candies, likely.