Her old eyes were as big as saucers and just as serious as any Naomi had ever seen.
“Excuse me, but are you talking to me?” Naomi asked her not really knowing what else to say. Her instinct knew that this was the way it was and she wondered to herself, why anyone so small would even dream of saying anything so bold.
Soon the bus stopped and Naomi and the young girl got off the bus.
“My name is Rosa. Rosa Parks”, the young girl said to Naomi.
“My name is Naomi. Naomi Jones.” Naomi replied back.
“Each day I get off this bus and walk six blocks to my mother’s sewing shop. One day I will run it myself, but for now, I work with my mother, for sometime four hours a night after school and I am so tired. I want to sit down too; just like the white people on the bus.” Rosa said.
My mother says that one day we will lead a great revolution and fight for our rights as human beings to be treated the same as the white people on the buses. She says that all things are possible with enough people who believe it!