There are some things we experience in life that are etched in our memories, never to be forgotten. This incident that I am sharing with you today happened when I was six years old and I am now ninety-one. It doesn't haunt me, but it never leaves me.
My brother and sisters were much older than me. They had come home from a hard day's work, tired and hungry. We had just gathered around the dinner table when Mom realized that she was out of bread. I was sent to the neighborhood grocery store to get a loaf and was told to hurry.
On my return trip, I noticed a car parked at the curb not far from the corner. As I passed by, a woman leaned across the seat and spoke to me.
"Hi, sweetie," she said in a pleasant voice.
"Hi," I replied shyly.
"Would you like to come and work for me?" She asked.
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. It was nineteen-thirty-nine, and the great depression had taken its toll on our family. I had no idea what she intended to pay me, but whatever it was would be a big help financially.
"Oh, yes," I said. "What do I have to do."
She explained that her husband had taken a job out of town and was gone a lot. She said she was lonely and would pay me to spend several nights a week with her at her home.
I was thrilled. I told her I would love to, but first I had to ask my family.
In my excitement I took off running, bursting into the kitchen with my news. I knew everyone would be happy for me. However, I did not receive the response I was expecting. Instead, my two brothers jumped up from the table and ran outdoors, returning angry and dejected.
"She's gone," they stated flatly.
I had no idea what just happened, even though the family tried to explain it to me. Innocence had been tampered with but was still intact.