245 Spare Change

A child no older than six or seven, her legs were folded under each other unnaturally. It was obvious she had been born this way. She didn't speak. She only held out a tin cup for the tourists who were checking off another must-see on their Rome adventures.

She couldn't speak except with her eyes of gratitude for each clink that sounded against the tin. She also smiled, but with more than a smile of gratitude. It was a statment of human connection, one generous soul granting another desperate one a respite from the cruelties of the lotteries determining our lives. A hand-off between worlds.

My heart broke. Occasionally she glanced my way. Would I come through? It was a fair question for her.

She was thin.

While many children are thin as growth spurts wax and wane, her thinness aggreed with the whole package—bizarre body language, her rags, and all the other things, right down to the smudges on her face and arms.

I had just sold my business for seven figures back home. This trip was a celebration. I was here with my wife who had stuck by me during the hard fiscal realities that tried to sink our ship. But that was the past. The future for us was set up sweet. It was unfair that my future was a given of stability and plenty, and this little girl's was one of uncertainty, hunger, and a cheated childhood.

I reached into my wallet and retrieved a 50-Euro note. Although it was only a little more than fifty bucks American, when I folded it and placed in her cup she gave me back a million dollars in resplendent gratitude.

She abruptly put two fingers over her tongue and released a piercing whistle. Another young girl strikingly similar to her—obviously a sister—ran up to her as she unfolded her locked legs and she went skipping off for this change of shift. Her sister folded her legs under her and assumed begging position.

I told my wife the story. "Sorry you gave her so much? Or anything?" she asked me.

I thought for a moment, then smiled. "No. Not at all. It was a good day."

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AUTHOR'S NOTES:

For Sunday, September 1, Day 245 of the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge

366 WORDS (without A/N)

Accompaniment photos were AI-generated but the spare change was not. I apologize for the AI-generated extra toe on her right foot.

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ABOUT THIS STORY:

This is based on a true story that happened to me near the entrance to the Vatican in Rome. Same "crippled" little girl, same change of shift. I could only laugh at myself. Fooled me, but then, that was so irrelevant when comparing how different people live, struggle, eat, and love.

I did another version for the "Small Kindess" challenge, which can be read at https://shopping-feedback.today/psyche/small-change.

THIS CHALLENGE BEGS ON, 366 BEGGARS AT A TIME.

There are currently three surviving, living, breathing, breathy, warm-blooded Vocal malingerers still asking for spare change in the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge:

• L.C. Schäfer, (beggar)

• Rachel Deeming (lender)

• Gerard DiLeo (thief)