Map Key:
1. Green Carpet
Green carpet covered in stains. Many stains caused by me. I was an incredibly clumsy kid, and that much was evident throughout the entire store. I would feel horrible every time I unintentionally left a stain because I loved that green carpet. I loved the color, but more importantly, I loved how the carpet felt. It was by no means soft, but it reminded me of grass, the way the tufts of carpet would mold around my foot and leave traces of my steps as I walked. I liked to run barefoot around the store, leaving a path of little footprints that would lead customers to their next purchase. I am not sure if that ever really worked, but I liked to think it made a difference. It turned into a habit that I have never truly been able to shake. I still drag my feet, making paths that I hope one day others might follow.
2. Mismatched Shelves
Mismatched shelves, some yellow, some pink, some brown. They were never fully stocked; the books were often laid flat to look as though they took up more space than they did. This was true for most of the shelves, except the tall yellow ones (the ones used to be tall and white.) These shelves held the Bibles, arguably the most critical part of the store. Customers would flock to this section looking for journaling Bibles, family Bibles, study Bibles, and even baby Bibles. But it was the King James Bibles that sold the fastest. Apparently, the King James Version was the most accurate, according to our customers. My mom got rebuked many times by customers complaining that no other version of the Bible should exist and that it was a sin that she sold any other translation. My mom told them that if they wanted the most accurate Bible, then maybe they should read the original Hebrew text. My mom taught me that the ESV was a more word-for-word translation anyway, so I never quite understood why they believed KJV was the best version when it was so much harder to read.
3. The Big Yellow Shelf
We used the big yellow shelves as hiding places. My brother, cousin, and I would all run around the store, ensuring we hid ourselves behind the shelves as best we could. Hide-and-seek was our favorite game to play out front despite the fact that there were hardly any hiding spots, and the customers who were shopping would always be in our way. Unfortunately, the game got banned after my brother rammed into a little old lady who was trying to reach a KJV Bible on the top shelf. Eventually, we learned that we could still play the game as long as there were no customers and my mom was not watching. We would listen for the door to ring, waiting for the customers to leave, hoping no one would come in while we were playing. Years passed, and suddenly, we hoped for the opposite, praying customers would come in. My brother, who was much younger than us, would still beg to play, and we had to explain to him that we could not play hide-and-seek if there was no store to play hide-and-seek in.
4. The Cash Register
The cash register was a hefty machine that came straight out of the 80s. It was loud and unforgiving. A single misstep, clicking the wrong number, or miscalculating sales tax meant resetting the entire thing. Resetting the entire thing took far too long. Sometimes, it would reset itself, and no misstep was even necessary. Customers would stand with frowns, eyes rolling, and feet impatiently stomping on the ground. They knew a computer would be faster. So did we, but there was nothing we could do about it. The cash register taught me patience. Patience I have to use every day. It’s that patience that gets me through long days at work when machines do not work properly, or customers become harsh.
5. The Wallpaper
The wallpaper was a very dated pattern, but I would sit and stare at it for hours. It involved a variety of squares stacked on each other and interlaced, creating a pattern that looked like pink, cream, and green arrows pointing down to the floor. Down to the water-damaged part of the wall. Down to the electrical circuits that I stuck my finger in once. Down to the stained green carpet that just never seemed to match anything, not even the green in the wallpaper itself. I used to stare at the walls, puzzling over what dictated which color went where. I later learned that green symbolizes growth and new beginnings. Meaning those arrows on the wallpaper were pointing me to my future, and guiding me through my childhood, showing me that there was more beyond that green carpet. There were new beginnings and new opportunities that I could see if I only looked up.
6. The Kid Area
The back corner of the store was what we called the “kid area.” It had everything a kid could ever need: a small table that had drawers full of Legos, storybook Bibles, toys (in their boxes still, but very accessible if you had a pair of scissors), DVDs of all my favorite shows, and most importantly so many books. I would sit and read at the little table, taking books off the shelf and making sure their contents were good enough for our customers. I started writing “Maggie approved” in the back of the books I read so any customer who picked it up would know it was good, which made my mom very angry. She said no one would want to buy the books if I had written in them. My nana told me the opposite. She said they would be worth money one day if I became famous. I never did become famous, but my nana still has those books just in case.
7. The Broken CD Player
There was a broken CD player by the cash register. Give Me Your Eyes by Brandon Heath was stuck on repeat, constantly playing in the headphones attached to it. Every now and then, I would put the headphones on, not really listening to the lyrics, and stare at the wallpaper. Eventually, I had the entire song memorized and could sing it on command. One day, my mom threw the CD player away. According to her, no one bought CDs anymore, and we needed to make space for things customers would actually buy. I told her I would buy the Brandon Heath CD if that meant the CD player could come back. She told me I didn’t have enough money, which was true. My mom got rid of the CD player, but at least I still had the books, and Legos, and wallpaper, and green carpet.
8. The Hallway to the Office
Pictures of the store’s history covered the walls of the hallway leading to the office. Black and white photos from 1989 of a group of people I never really got to know. The people my grandparents had bought the store from. People that died before I got to know them. Pictures of my nana and her best friend when they took over as owners, standing in front of the doors looking so proud. It looked different even then: cleaner, pristine paint, no greasy fingerprints on the windows. Pictures of my mom, a teenager, working at the cash register, with poofy dark hair, a red vest, and brown trousers, the phone to her ear, and a smile on her face. It was easier for her back then. She only worked the front desk as a cashier, but by the time she had me, she had become the manager, accountant, and everything in between. There were also pictures of me. So many pictures of me. Me as baby, being held by all the workers in the store. Me playing games in the kids’ area. Me showing my friends around the store. Me reading the books right off the shelves. The walls were a scrapbook of the store’s history, but they were also a painting of my childhood.
9. The “Open/Closed” sign
The “open/closed” sign that always hung on the front door. The sign that reads in a beautifully intricate font, “Brookhaven Christian Bookstore.” I remember the early mornings flipping the sign to “OPEN” as my mom wiped away the tiredness from her eyes or the late nights when I flipped it to “CLOSED,” hoping we would get to leave in time for dinner. The sign that has been permanently stuck on “CLOSED” ever since September 30th, 2019. I remember walking into the store and feeling the comfort of its green carpet, hoping it would be able to comfort me forever, but I also remember realizing there would be a day that the green carpet would be gone, along with the comfort that it brought. The sign that hangs in my room so that every single time I see it, I remember walking into the store. Watching the store close taught me what true loss was and how sometimes God puts people and places in our lives that are not meant to stay. Instead, he uses them to mold us into the people we will become. So now, as I look at that sign hanging on my wall, destined to be permanently closed, I remember that God will provide just as He used the store to provide for my family while it was open and just as he provided a way for us to survive when it closed. ◆
Maggie Kitzmiller is a junior at University of the Cumberlands. She is majoring in both Marketing and Communications and minoring in English. She has grown up in London, Kentucky, and has lived there her whole life. She has a passion for artistry, whether that be through painting, music, or writing. She hopes to further this passion and embrace it into her future and career.
Pensworth 