“What do you know—they put the article in!” He taps the paper with his finger. “A nice big feature about my family.”

“Why don’t you buy a paper for each of your family? As a special memory.” She looks innocent while struggling to talk.

“That’s fine. I only need one or two. I can always make copies.”

“But, copies aren’t the same. They should be originals.” Mary’s words cause him to pause. “Ahm....” She wants to add something but hesitates.

He makes an interested expression with his eyes. “What were you going to say? Go right ahead.”

“Your mother will want two or three papers. You can sign these, too. For each person. Like a special thing.”

He holds a hand to his chin for a moment, pondering Mary, or what she is saying. “You may have something there. I have a lot of relatives, though.” He points down to the stack of unsold papers, and grins. “Have you been saving those for me all day?”

The light changes and cars begin honking again for the man to get back in and go. More yelling occurs.

“Here. I’ll take these.” The man places a bill in Mary’s hand and grabs a handful of eight or nine papers, leaving the rest behind. “That should take care of everyone. You sure you’re alright?”

“Yes. Alright, thank you.”

Mary watches him throw the papers in his car and drive away with a pleased look and a wave. “Get a big sign!” are his last words. Then she thinks of looking at the money he gave her. It’s much more than the papers cost! Her mouth opens in a gasp.

My God, her imagination climbs, maybe anything’s possible, selling 15 papers each day like Judy said. Maybe someday without these terrible anxiety attacks or all the scary thoughts. A new treatment, it’s not impossible.