My great Grandfather, Zaidy Herman, had a button and lace store in Kensington market where my Mother, and her Mother were raised. Buttons were the currency of their childhood.
I can barely remember the old shelves stacked high with hundreds of identical generic boxes, differentiated only by a single button sewn by my great Grandfather's hand to the front of each box.
More vivid a memory however is the orange drawer box of buttons my mother kept which my Sister and I loved to play with. The drawer on the left contained the smaller ones which were the perfect size for scooping off the living room rug with my Tonka toy truck.
Larger buttons, still in their original boxes, were also dumped onto the floor and then carefully separated by texture, colour and size. We would then trade them like playing cards, each of us coveting our favorite kinds.
While the button store is long gone, I still frequent Kensington market, connected by an invisible thread to the place where my family, built their dreams.
A few years ago I was walking along Augusta Ave. and passed an old trinket shop. I ignored the bins of cheap hats and t-shirts lining the entrance until something stopped me in my tracks. In the windows were sun-blanched buttons, sewn four to a card. The very same ones that once adorned the shelves of my Zaidy's store.
In that moment four generations manifest simultaneously. Overcome, I stood motionless my mind spinning with a million thoughts. I recalled my Mothers story of how, after Zaidy Herman passed away, a giant bin was brought to the front of the store and thousands of buttons were thrown away. Tears began to well. I remembered the garage full of buttons and lace, treasures rescued by my Mother and Grandmother. Those too were eventually lost or given away. Weak and confused I eventually turned away.
--
Two weeks ago I came downstairs to find my two year old niece playing in my parents living room. Spread across the very same rug I once played on were dozens of buttons of various shapes and sizes. I watched as she carefully examined one after the other, absorbing the rich history and significance of each.
Our family's currency is buttons.
Perry Gladstone