When Kindness Led

“Mama, tell me again what year you were born?” Caressa smiled at her mother, her brilliant white teeth set off against her ebony skin.

“1930, in Apalachicola. Mom said it was a dark and stormy night, thunder booming and lightning striking the lightning rod over and over.”

Caressa counted on her fingers. “You’re 28 because I’m 8, and you had me when you were 20.”

“That’s right, baby. You are 8, and such a little mathematician

“That is what I want to be, Mama, a mathematician. A teacher or a scientist.”

Marianne smiled at her daughter, lighting up her brown-sugar face, her smile crinkling tawny eyes. “Do you want me to walk you to school, sweetie?” Caressa shook her head and hurried down the porch, clutching her primary-colored books.

“Be careful. Watch for cars before you cross. Come straight home from school; I’ll be watching for you.” Caressa waved and skipped to the corner.

Layla, Caressa’s best friend, waited at the corner. When Marianne saw them hook arms, she went back inside to make the beds and clean up the breakfast dishes.

Layla and Caressa were seven blocks from home when they needed to cross the empty field, a shortcut all the kids used. Caressa squeezed Layla’s hand as the older kids approached. The girls kept their eyes down and sped up, schoolbooks clutched tight.

A group of kids from Rialto and Lawrence streets, one or two years older than Caressa, was heading to school. They wore bright tennis shoes and hid blond, brown, and red hair under ball caps. Cathy, Patty, and Ginny wore flared skirts and bobby socks. Cathy, the tallest brunette, wore a green blouse and applied hot-pink lipstick after leaving her mother's sight. Ginny favored blue tops, and Patty usually wore yellow with dark skirts.

Red, nicknamed for his hair, was the loudest and most intimidating. Jerry and Tommy walked beside him; the others followed silently. The younger girls pressed forward, trying to outpace the boys. Jerry and Tommy matched their stride, closing in and slowing them down. Cathy, Patty, and Ginny linked arms and skipped up to the boys, pulling them off the sidewalk. Layla and Caressa took the opportunity to cross quickly.

Each day, after eating their lunch, Caressa and Layla went to the playground together until the bell rang to go in. They stayed in one corner of the playground, away from the other kids. Sometimes they played hopscotch, and other days, jacks. Today, Red and his friends, as well as Cathy and hers, were outside at the same time. Red and the guys began moving toward the hopscotch board where the girls were.

Before Red’s group could disrupt the game, Cathy picked up a pretty pebble and tossed it onto the board, jumping to space 1. She continued to “home” and came back. When her turn was over, Ginny had a turn. By this time, Red had lost interest, and he and his friends went to the field to play catch.

Ginny handed the pebble back to Layla, and she and the other two older girls left. There was time for one quick game before the bell rang.

On the way home, Layla and Caressa skipped, clutching their books. In the same field, the older boys stood. This time, the boys formed a line, physically blocking the path.

Layla and Caressa hesitated, considering the long way home. They usually reached the field before Red’s group, but today the boys seemed to be waiting, intent on trouble.

Cathy, Ginny, and Patty showed up as the younger girls stood there, undecided. Cathy went ahead while Ginny and Patty each took a hand with Caressa and Layla. Cathy strode right toward Red, the center of the line. She did not veer or slow down as she crossed the field, nor did she look to see if her friends were behind her. The girls pressed in closer to her, and as she approached Red, the line of boys split apart as Cathy led her team across the field.

All five of them continued walking together. When they reached Layla’s street, Ginny and she veered off, waving at the others. Cathy and Patty continued on with Caressa and stopped in front of her house.

Caressa’s mom was on the porch, waiting like she said she would be. She jumped up when she saw Caressa, and her eyebrows rose at the sight of the older white girls escorting her baby.

“Mama, Cathy, and Patty walked me home. Ginny was with us, but she went on to take Layla to her house.”

Caressa ran up the stairs into her mother’s hug. Marianne looked over her daughter’s head at the older girls and nodded, her breath catching. The girls waved and returned the nod, then began walking back. Caressa jumped up and down, calling, “Thank you, Cathy and Patty! Thanks for walking me home!”

Copyright © 3/26/2026 by Andrea O. Corwin Thank you for stopping by! 😃 If you like ♡ my scribbles, hit the subscribe button. Please consider leaving a comment. ✍️❤️