Full Speed Ahead: My Journey with Kit

I realize it will look weird to wait around in my coat while my clothes dry, and since dryers don’t exist yet, I have a problem. So I tell Kit there’s no need to go to Uncle Hendrick’s house for my suitcase. It was left behind. That’s sort of true. Back in my apartment, I do have a suitcase of old clothes I’m redoing, and I was looking at it right before I clicked the camera.

Kit shrugs and offers to lend me some clothes upstairs. We climb up, Buddy bounding ahead and Grace ambling along behind.

Kit’s room turns out to be in the attic, with a peaked ceiling and windows tucked into alcoves. I tell her I love it, and she beams. She didn’t always feel that way; she had to give up her old room to Mrs. Howard and Stirling, but decided to make the most of the attic by giving each alcove its own purpose: one for sports gear, one for her desk and typewriter, one for her bed and a plant, and one for a big reading chair and bookshelf, where Buddy promptly jumps up. The room is also spotless, which makes me think I should try harder with mine back home.

Kit opens her closet and holds out a red dress with a wide, asymmetrical white collar and a bell-shaped skirt. I tell her I love it, but it’s clearly her best dress, and I’m too sloppy to risk ruining that collar with a spill.

Then I notice a box of clothes by Grace. Kit says they’re clothes she’s outgrown, and as I look through them, I spot some fabulous vintage pieces, the kind I would flip over in a secondhand store. I pull out a pair of jean overalls and tell Kit I’ll wear those.

Kit shakes her head. She can’t let me wear her old clothes, since Mother wouldn’t like it, and Uncle Hendrick would be scandalized if he saw me in them. I can tell it’s a matter of pride for her, the good kind, so I tell her the dress is too nice. I just need something to throw on while my clothes dry.

Kit hesitates, then grins as she watches me fold up a blouse’s frayed cuffs, twist the overall straps to fit, and tie a scarf on as a belt. I tell her that making old clothes look new is my kind of fun, the same way fixing up her room was hers. She laughs and asks if I’m sure I don’t mind wearing her old things. I am sure.

Kit mentions she was already planning to take the box to the soup kitchen and asks if I want to come. Part of me wants to keep those clothes for myself, but then it hits me that Kit’s family is struggling, too, and she still wants to help people worse off. I pick up the box and tell her we should go.

Kit explains that she, Stirling, and their friend Ruthie have been to the soup kitchen before, and she knows the woman in charge, Mrs. Schultz. When we turn onto River Street, a line stretches from the door all the way down the block, families and all, waiting in the midday sun with no shade.

I’ve never seen homeless families lined up for food before, and the children’s clothes are ripped and filthy, some without real shoes at all. I hug Buddy close. Kit says it’s sad, and I agree.

Inside, it is hot and thick with the smell of soup and coffee, the tables crowded with people eating, the food served cafeteria-style at a long table.

We bring the clothes to Mrs. Schultz, a woman with round glasses that make her look like a kindly owl. She’s grateful, since the children need clothes badly, and glad we brought Buddy, too, since so many families had to leave their own pets behind. She points us to four girls sitting on the floor whose family lost everything in a fire.

I suddenly feel awkward, never having spoken to a homeless person before, and ask Kit if the girls will think we’re being snobby. She shakes her head and tells me to trust her.

Kit sits down with the girls, says hello, and offers a blue shirt to the one nearest her. I chime in that it will bring out her eyes.

The girl thanks us quietly, shy until Buddy licks her chin and knocks her over, and we all laugh. Kit keeps handing out clothes without making a fuss, and I turn out to be good at matching sizes to each girl. The older ones say thank you and the younger ones just smile, but they all look happy.

We say goodbye to the girls and find Mrs. Schultz, who thanks us for the clothes and for giving them a reason to laugh, scratching Buddy’s head on her way out.

Outside, Kit says seeing the people here makes her appreciate her own family. The Kittredges may be pinching pennies in a crowded, noisy house, but at least they’re together. I nod.

All day I’ve wondered why the camera sent me here, and now I think I know, to show me how to appreciate what I have and be more compassionate, while giving me a new friend in Kit.