Magnolia Wu Unfolds It All

by Chanel Miller

Magnolia wondered why adults were always reminding her that she used to be smaller and was now larger. What else were they expecting to happen?

Magnolia shouldn’t have said anything. If she’d kept quiet, she’d have never risked being embarrassed. Then again, if she kept quiet, she might as well be a stone.

Magnolia had never thought of an error as a creative act.

“My dad gave me these socks as a gift when I became old enough to sweep the floors, my first job. I was frustrated at first, wanted to go straight to cutting hair, but he said every role has significance, no matter how small. That standing on this floor is a privilege, it’s a sacred space.”

A tribute to all the occupations that make a community run

This sounded like something her parents would do; use eggshells instead of store-bought fertilizer. Use old T-shirts instead of rags. Use recycled newspapers instead of tablemats. She felt slightly embarrassed that her dad had suggested this, exposing their ways at home to Rosa.

Magnolia noticed that the shadow they made on the sidewalk was a massive gray blob; at the beginning of summer, she’d had a single, long shadow. Now her shadow was the size of a baby elephant. She was part of a group. A sock squad!

To past me, things are looking up.