I carry a small purse.

Even so, when I reach inside to retrieve a tube of lipstick — past a bulky wallet, eye glasses cleaner, work ID badge and half a dozen pens — I’m often reminded of the scene in “Mary Poppins” when Julie Andrews reaches into her black leather carryall and pulls out a lamp. And a mirror. And a hat stand.

Everything the nanny needs to outfit her new quarters and make the children smile fits neatly inside her bag.

Ms. Poppins may have had magic on her side, but there’s some truth in the nonsense. In a roomful of women, it’s hardly possible to ask for some trinket or product — however obscure — and not have one of them reach into her purse and answer the request.

And the most well-equipped purses belong to moms.

When my energetic 2-year-old nephew starts squirming in the church pew after half an hour of sitting still, my mother-in-law — his nana — always manages to produce just the distraction he needs from the depths of her handbag. And it’s usually not what you might expect. Her bangled charm bracelet is more likely to appease him than the toy she brought along for the task.

Maybe 30 years of running a home day care cultivated her sixth sense for what a child wants and needs.

Or maybe, just like Mary Poppins, she and other moms have some sort of maternal magic in their corners.

And maybe they hide it in their purses.

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The similarity between a high-dollar Chanel tote and the worn, lumpy bag your mom has schlepped around for as long as you can remember is this: They hold secrets.

“What you put in your bag is very important,” says Farid Chenoune, author of “Carried Away: All About Bags.” “That makes a bag very personal because in it you have a secret. A secret gives you some sort of power.”

But if the inside of a handbag is off-limits personal space, the outside is practically a billboard, advertising the owner’s personality — even her social status or stage in life.

Expensive designer labels signify wealth. Bold colors might be a sign of zaniness. And size matters, too. Teenagers and young women tend to carry clutches and small totes. The older a woman gets, it seems, the bigger her purse becomes.

Terri Faunce, owner of The Casbah, sees this trend in her downtown shop, which sells everything from coin purses to deep market bags.

“A lot of the college girls will be looking for something just to hold their keys, checkbook and cell phone,” she says. “It seems like the older women that come into the store, their purses are on a larger scale. It almost seems like they don’t buy as many purses. It’s kind of like they’ve got their one big purse and they’re set.”

My theory — and I’m sure I’m not the first to make the connection — is that the size of a woman’s handbag grows with her list of responsibilities, which, in turn, grows longer with age.

And having children is a biggy on the responsibility list.

So even though all the very-practical-but-not-very-pretty purses my mom carried when I was growing up have blurred into one forgettable clump of navy blue pleather, I still appreciate that giant beaded key chain she would reach inside and pull out when I was bored nearly to tears.

Or the Kleenex she produced when I was crying on the sidelines at the soccer field after the ball hit me in the face — twice.

Or the safety pin she foraged for when an unfortunate lost button would have meant certain mortification.

You get the idea.

Moms just have what we need. And they probably don’t keep it all tucked inside their handbags, but it sure seems that way sometimes.

That’s why I take comfort when I see a mother hauling around a massive purse. Any on-the-go mom with a dainty clutch is just begging to come up empty-handed next time her daughter needs a ponytail holder or her son needs a dose of cold medicine.

Unless she’s Mary Poppins.

— The Associated Press contributed to this column.