(this is my version of Tim O’Brien’s “The Things They Carried” about the Vietnam War)
The Things They Carried
by Lisa Anderson
She carries keys, a cell phone, ipod, school ID, books, colored pens to pass the time in class, a hoodie she took off at noon, and sunglasses.
She carries tennis shoes on most days, flip-flops when its beautiful or wet and rainy.
Most students carry similar items, sometimes a skateboard, a unicycle, an art set as big as them.
The things we carry define us; without them we panic as if we lost a part of ourselves.
She carries the weight of greif; she carries shame; she carries doubt and pride.
The passerby with his skateboard carries shame and hurt about his girlfriend’s abortion.
Another carries lust for a girl down the hall.
Yet another carries the stress of a relative who is sick, and the struggle that they cannot go home.
The old man on the corner carries the sights and sounds of war.
A girl carries an STD she doesn’t know she has.
The Persian carries her culture on her head and her stride.
Some things we carry out of habit, some have meaning, and some we want to let go.
She dreams of a place where she is free of things to carry. She decides to go on a journey, one without the weight of the things she carries.
She decides she will need a backpack for the journey. She hooks on a nalgene full of freshwater, energy bars, maybe even a tent to settle down for the night.
She gets tired and her things again weigh her down.
She cannot carry on.
He picks them up, and pulls her hand along the way. She cannot do it without Him.
