One of my friends gave me a story. That's what she called the pretty colourful bracelet, and the cute pair of pearl earrings she brought me back from her trip to England (she went to a workshop in business journalism hosted by Reuters -can you believe that- the Reuters!! She was the only black person there among journalists from all over the world!) She also brought me back a real live authentic Reuters pen! I was beside myself with ecstasy! A real live Reuters pen is just a really big deal to a young li'l Jamaican journalist-in-training. I'll tell you this much: it means something!
So, when she handed me these things, she said, "this is the beginning of a story." When I heard that, I sat up straight because I knew something good was coming. And here it is:
My friend, (we shall dub her Destiny), visited her grandmother in England on her birthday (during the workshop). Her grandmother gave her a gift of a beautiful crockery set, and told her, "this is the beginning of a story." What she meant was that she didn't know if or when she would ever see Destiny again, so she was giving her the gift as what she expected to be the beginning of a legacy in Destiny's life. Basically, she was saying, if I never see you again, let this gift be in memory of me. Tell the story of your trip to England and your visit to your grandmother to your children and your children's children whenever you use these dishes.
So, after Destiny bought me the little keepsakes, she decided to call them the beginning of a story too. Because, according to her, as soon as she finishes her program at UWI, she is getting out of Jamaica as fast as she can and there is no guarantee that she will evah see me again after that.
"So," she said in her saucy, matter-of-fact way, "let this be the beginning of a story." I laughed my ass off. But it warmed my heart too. See, sometimes it's the little things...