The pharmacist handed me my prescription,apologized for the wait,
and explained that his register had already closed.
He asked if I would mind using the register at the front of the store.
I told him not to worry and walked up front,
where one person was in line ahead of me,
a little girl no more than seven, with a bottle of medicine on the counter.
She clenched a little green and white striped coin purse closely to her chest.
The purse reminded me of the days when, as a child,
I played dress-up in my grandma s closet.
I d march around the house in oversized clothes,
drenched in costume jewelry and hats and scarves,
talking grownup talk to anyone who would listen.
I remembered the thrill one day when I gave a pretend dollar to someone,
[and he handed back some real coins for me to put into my special purse.
Keep the change! he told me with a wink.
Now the clerk rang up the little girl s medicine,
while she shakily pulled out a coupon, a dollar bill and some coins.
I watched her blush as she tried to count her money,
and I could see right away that she was about a dollar short.
With a quick wink to the clerk,
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