The bell on the children’s resale shop door rang suddenly, rapidly, as the ball repeatedly struck the bell, announcing the young mother’s presence too loudly, startling her as she struggled to nonchalantly enter the store without being noticed by anyone already inside. She pulled a shiny, bright red wagon behind her, filled way over the brim with new toys, her toddler in tow, pushing it from the rear.
The little boy had a big, proud smile on his face, reflecting the joy he felt from helping his mom. It was a sharp contrast to her dour look, brought on by the shame she suffered, her state of affairs having to come to this pitiful moment. But, it was a necessary one, given that she had no other choices left.
The store employees cheerfully greeted her, something she really didn’t want, because it only called undue attention. It seemed that every eye in the place was fixed in her direction now and that made her feel all the more uncomfortable. But, it was too late to leave without making a spectacle of herself and that just made circumstances worse.
She bashfully walked to the point of sale counter, looking down all the way over, not making direct eye contact with the employees too soon, her little boy eagerly following, completely unaware of their predicament. After all, she could not explain it to him, because he simply would not understand. Even if he was old enough to grasp what was going on, he wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate their dire situation.
Without uttering a word, she began to pick the new toys out of the bright, shiny wagon, putting them on top of the counter one by one. She did not have to verbally express her intentions, the store employees immediately sensed exactly why she was there, helping her to sort the unused toys in a neat fashion, making their presentation as attractive as possible. Surely, the store would pay good money for these items, since they’ve never been played with a single time before. In fact, quite a few of them were still in their original packaging.
The store employees looked each item over carefully, taking notes all the while, whispering to one another. When they finished, one took out a small notepad, the top sheet filled with indented lines, characters, and shapes, impressions left over from the writing instrument used previously on the missing sheet above. The employee momentarily confided with the shop owner, then quickly scribbled down a number on the notepad, tearing the paper off, folding it in half, and handing it over to the young mother.
The little boy watched curiously as his mother unfolded the paper. He didn’t know what it was or why the person behind the counter handed it to his mother, but he really wanted to see what was written on it. The young mom just stared blankly at the paper, barely blinking for a long, tense moment.
The offer was unbelievably low – a mere fraction of the toys’ retail price. Her little boy tugged on her dress, gesturing to see the unfolded paper. She obliged, showing it briefly to the boy, but hastily folded it back up, handed it back, and shook her head “no” politely, nervously.
The employee empathized with the young mother and took the folded note directly to her boss. After a short conference, the employee opened the paper up again, crossed out the number, and wrote a new one. This time, it was more, but not a lot. Significant but not substantial.
The young woman shrugged her shoulders, nodding “yes,” and handed the paper back to the employee again, who nodded in return, acknowledging the mother’s acceptance of the second offer.
When the employee opened the cash register, the little boy looked on with delight. He knew the sight of money meant something positive but didn’t equate it with the trade his mother just made. There was no way she could make her naive toddler understand they were selling his little brother’s toys, precious reminders of his sibling’s miraculous life and untimely death, after months of them being off-limits to her older child.
She immediately put the cash in her wallet and closed it tight. Though it was full of plastic, every card was useless, having been maxed out to their limits some weeks ago. She grabbed her little boy’s hand, noticing how small it felt in her own, and lead him toward the store exit.
He hesitated, pulling back in the opposite direction, reaching longingly for the shiny red wagon. But, his mother resisted, tugging his hand, trying to coax him to obey her lead. He drew back in defiance, as tears began to well in his tiny eyes. He reached out again for the wagon and motioned to bring his little late brother’s toys along.
Exasperated by the experience, the young mother scooped her toddler up, trying in vain to hold back tears of her own. As she hurriedly exited the store, she bumped right into an elderly couple, knocking a shopping bag out of the wife’s hands and spilling the contents onto the ground.
The young mother, embarrassed, swiftly crouched down and picked the items up, returning them. The couple smiled in thanks, noticing she and her little boy had been crying. The couple could clearly see where they had just been and the husband implored her to wait for a minute.
The old man went into the resale shop and spoke to the employees. Moments later, he emerged from the store, pulling the shiny red wagon, filled with all the toys. He handed the young mother the handle, then pulled a small envelope from his pocket.
The wife gave the young mother a hug and patted her little boy on the head, explaining they once had been in the same situation many, many years ago. They wished the boy and his mother well and casually walked away, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.
As the young mother started to cry, her little boy interrupted, begging her to open the envelope. She stooped down beside him, gesturing for them to open it together. He enthusiastically ripped the seal open, revealing what was inside – three crisp one-hundred-dollar bills.
