Norma Jean is 10. She comes to the office every Saturday to help me. She is afraid of the other office girls so she will only come on Saturday afternoons when they are off work. She lives across the street from the office on the second floor of a cafe. Her mother works and her father does not see her often. Until five she is left the run of the streets with her sister who is a year older and a brother a year younger.
The first time I saw her she came in and begged me for something to do. Her face was covered with butterscotch candy. Her hands were filthy and she was chewing a piece of the candy. Her hair was dirty and looked like it had not been combed for weeks. Between the dirty hair and the butterscotch mouth was a pair of bright blue eyes that were continually asking the way of things. Her dress was dirty and looked like she may have been going down a slippery slide at the Providence child care on her stomach. Her pockets were full of more butterscotch candy. One leg had a long scar on it. She runs barefoot as long as the weather lets her. As the weather gets colder she wears the kind of shoes that poor children are given, heavy and awkward. All she has to keep the wind away is a light sweater. If she has a coat it is saved to go to school.
She told me her favorite holiday was the month of July. She said she is saving her money that she is given or finds to buy firecrackers. One year her mother sent her to California a week before the fourth of July to stay two weeks and they only had fireworks at Christmas in California. She was hit by a car this summer and spent two weeks in the hospital and missed the Fourth again.
Promptly at five each week she leaves with the promise she will be back next Saturday afternoon.
( I received a B minus on this and think I must have made it up watching the kids that had a city daycare center.)
She told me her favorite holiday was the month of July. She said she is saving her money that she is given or finds to buy firecrackers. One year her mother sent her to California a week before the fourth of July to stay two weeks and they only had fireworks at Christmas in California. She was hit by a car this summer and spent two weeks in the hospital and missed the Fourth again.
Promptly at five each week she leaves with the promise she will be back next Saturday afternoon.
( I received a B minus on this and think I must have made it up watching the kids that had a city daycare center.)
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