The mother put it away after hours of watching her daughter's fun and laughter as she slid down the little snow mountain at the end of the block. All the neighborhood kids were there too, taking for granted the wonder of a winter playground.
As the mother contemplated the sled, she remembered her astonishment, her annoyance when many years ago, she first experienced snow. "I've got speckles in my eyes," she complained, trying to brush them away. The adults laughed and reminisced about their own recent introduction to the white specks. They talked about the contrast between their beautiful island paradise and these mean, cold, dirty streets. Still, it was beautiful when it snowed... before it slushed to hues of yellow and grey. They taught her how to play in it. Even South Bronx poverty included fun.
Smiling, the mother let out a deep sigh. Her daughter could not imagine how her privileges came about. Living in a nice suburb of Long Island, in a lovely home, her daughter's life flowed within the luxuries of middle America. To the daughter, the sled was a mere toy, to the mother a symbol - of struggles overcome, of escape.
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Thanks again Willow for the great picture prompt at Magpie Tales.
