Poor Girls

“Where are we going Mary?” said the 12 year old with expressive eyes and soft lips.

“To the edge of town,” said the older girl not explaining why.

Joanna knew why. The dump was at the edge of town and Mary wanted her to come along to dig through garbage, because they were poor. “Maybe we can play, if we find what we need right away,” she said hopefully.

Mary pushed a dark curl out of her eyes and made a face, “Why do you always want to play? Are you a still a baby?”

“I don’t think God meant for us to hurt so much,” said Joanna. “We should be happy.”

Mary didn’t answer. She was never happy anymore. She had to do what she didn’t like to do, like digging through trash just to be able to eat. She didn’t believe in God anymore. She said, “God doesn’t care.”

“You’re wrong!” said Joanna, brushing her long blonde strands of hair back from her face to knot it at the base of her neck. Her rosy cheeks glowed in the sun, unlike Mary’s which looked wan, old, and pocked from too much harsh work.

The two girls didn’t talk anymore. They sifted through the rubbish silently until the noise of a passing crowd made them look up. Joanna stuffed her treasure, a tarnished ring, in the fold of her robe and climbed up the pile of garbage for a look.

“You better not leave me,” said Mary. Her eyes glared darkly. “I won’t be your friend anymore,” she threatened.

Joanna tried to ignore her, but her friend looked so helpless sitting in the middle of the filthy pile of cast offs.  So she stumbled back down over the jumble to rejoin her friend. Reaching out, she took the older girl by the hand and said, “C’mon. You need a break.”

For once Mary let Joanna pull her out of the pit to follow the crowd. For once she thought, maybe Joanna was right. She needed an adventure to rekindle her lost childhood.

The girls followed the crowd from a distance until they came to an open field near the lake. It was so beautiful and green and they started to pick Buttercups to weave into their hair. A gentle voice on the wind asked everyone to sit down. Joanna fell to her knees giggling, “Your nose is yellow.”

Mary rubbed the pollen away and started to grin at her friend. If only she weren’t so hungry, this would be a perfect day. She sat down next to Joanna and leaned her head against the giggling girl. Joanna wrapped her arms around her like a mother, although she was two years younger. They sat in a quiet embrace listening to the voices around them. A shadow made them look up. A man who smelled of fish reached out to give them a piece of bread. Suddenly fearful, the girls shook their heads. He turned and disappeared between the people grouped on the grass. Mary said, “Maybe we should go.”

Joanna put her hand on her friend’s arm to stop her from getting up. This was a good place. She could feel it. “No,” she said, “And if anyone offers us bread again, I’m taking it.”

Someone touched her on the shoulder and she turned to face an old woman holding out two pieces of bread. “It’s alright,” she said. “There’s enough for everybody.”

Joanna handed a piece to Mary as the old woman with the checkered scarf said, “The miracle worker from God is feeding us all.”

The girls stretched up to look over the heads of the people around them. In the center of the crowd a handsome young man in a white tunic broke bread and passed it on. For a fleeting second he looked their way, and they knew things would change.