Observations on a Rainy Afternoon: Mitchell’s Colorful Journey

By Zachary

The rain cascaded down in gentle sheets, transforming our small town into a canvas of glistening streets and muted colors. It was on such an afternoon that I first noticed Mitchell—a sweet boy who seemed to dance between the raindrops, his presence as vibrant as the colorful ensemble he wore.

His sweatshirt caught my eye first, a kaleidoscope of hues that stood in stark contrast to the gray backdrop of the wet streets. Clutched above his head was an umbrella that looked like it had been painted by an artist’s most whimsical imagination, its colors bright enough to challenge the dreary weather. Mitchell moved with a purpose, weaving through the rain-slicked sidewalks, his destination clear: the local grocery store.

I watched, intrigued, as he picked up sweet potato pies—their golden-brown crusts peeking out from the brown paper bag—and a selection of juices. There was something almost poetic about his movement, a rhythm that seemed to defy the melancholy of the rainy day.

Later, scrolling through social media, I found his profile. A top hat—an unexpected accessory that spoke volumes about his unique sense of style—completed his look in several photos. It was then that I felt compelled to bridge a connection, to share a piece of history that I suspected he might not know.

If I could speak to Mitchell, I would tell him about Lincoln—Abraham Lincoln, the 16th President of the United States. I’d share the profound story of how, on January 1, 1863, he signed the Emancipation Proclamation, a pivotal moment that declared slaves in Confederate states to be free. It was more than just a political document; it was a turning point in human rights, a beacon of hope that would reshape the very fabric of American society.

I imagine myself explaining how Lincoln’s actions were revolutionary. How a single document could challenge an entire system of oppression, how words could become a catalyst for change. I’d want Mitchell to understand that freedom is not just a word, but a hard-fought right that generations before us struggled to secure.

Perhaps Mitchell would listen, his colorful umbrella folded, his unique style momentarily set aside as he absorbed a world history lesson that connects us all. In that moment, the rain outside would be a metaphor—washing away ignorance, bringing clarity, revealing the depth of human struggle and triumph.

As he walks away with his sweet potato pies and juice, I’d hope that the story of Lincoln would stay with him—a reminder that individual style is beautiful, but understanding our shared history is even more profound.