A Lady's Choice by Sandra Robbins Page B

open her lips and swallow. Most of it trickled down the side of her face and onto the bed.
    After a few minutes Sarah gave up and set the bowl aside. She scooted her chair closer to the bed and clasped her mother’s hand in both of hers. She sat quietly for a few minutes lost in thought before she began to speak.
    â€œMama, do you remember the time when I was a little girl, and you and Poppa took me to downtown Memphis shopping? We rode a streetcar and got off at the corner of Main and Beale. The first thing I saw was a store on the corner with dolls in the window, and I ran toward it. I was pointing out which doll I wanted for Christmas when I heard voices shouting in the distance. I was so scared, but you took me by the hand and led me to the edge of the sidewalk. I saw a large group of women in the middle of the street walking toward us. Some of them carried flags. Some held signs, and all chanted at the top of their voices.
    â€œFor a minute I was scared, and I looked up at Poppa. ‘What is it, Poppa?’ I asked.
    â€œHe grasped my hand and pointed to the women. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘It’s a group of suffragists marching.’
    â€œThat word sounded so strange to me, and I struggled to say it. ‘What’s a suf–suf–suffragist?’
    â€œHe just smiled at me in his patient way like he always did and said, ‘They’re women who want our lawmakers to give them the right to vote like men.’
    â€œOf course at that age I’d never given a thought to the fact that women couldn’t vote, but it dawned on me that one day I would be a woman. So I asked him. ‘Why can’t women vote, Poppa?’ “He reached up and ran his finger over his mustache like he did every time he was going to tell me something really important. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I suppose because men who have the power have never passed a law that allows them to vote.’
    â€œI remember I propped my hands on my hips, cocked my head to one side, and looked up at him. ‘Do you think women should vote, Poppa?’ I asked.
    â€œHe never avoided any of my questions, and he didn’t that day either. ‘I certainly do. Women have been trying for about forty years to get the lawmakers to change the law,’ he answered.
    â€œAs far as I was concerned, that settled the matter. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave a curt nod. ‘When I’m grown, I’ll make them change the law, Poppa,’ I said.
    â€œI can still hear how his laugh echoed across Beale Street. He dropped down on one knee and chucked me under the chin. ‘I think you could. I feel sorry for the lawmakers if you get after them. You’ll be a formidable adversary.’
    â€œI’d never heard that big word before and asked him what it meant.
    â€œâ€˜It’s someone who opposes something and works to change things,’ he told me.
    â€œI knew I could do that, so I smiled. ‘Then I’m going to be an adversary and get Mama and me the right to vote like you, Poppa.’”
    Sarah tightened her hold on her mother’s hand. “I haven’t forgotten that promise, Mama. As long as I live, I won’t give up working to give women the right to vote. I want you to know that.”
    There was a slight pressure from her mother’s fingers, and then her hand relaxed. Sarah sat by her bed without moving as the afternoon gave way to night. When dark shadows covered the room, Sarah rose and lit the oil lamp on the table beside the bed then took up her post again. Just after the clock struck nine o’clock, Sarah heard a peaceful sigh, and she leaned closer as her mother took her last breath. She sat on the edge of her chair for a few minutes and studied how peaceful her mother’s face appeared in death.
    The reality of what had occurred struck her, and she eased back into her chair and closed her eyes. Her father was gone, and now