Scene at a Bus Stop

I'm standing in line with two bags of groceries under a pedestrian overpass for the bus home. It's twilight, that exact moment when light suddenly morphs into dark. There's a soft drizzle that gets blown everywhere so that everything is evenly damp.

Suddenly, a small child in front of me jabs my grocery bag with her elbow. She looks up at me, a naughty, teasing smile on her face. She is cute. Probably no more than four years old. Short, evenly cropped hair. Round eyes, small button nose and cute set of teeth. I don't smile back, because, as you probably know by now, I don't have patience with misbehaving children.

"Don't do it again," I tell her in a stern voice, though I have no idea if she understands English or not. She smiles again, a bigger, flirtier smile. She's clearly trying to get my attention. "It's not cute," I say. I know I seem mean and cold-hearted. But I have no intention of rewarding bad behavior with a desired response. If I humor her, she will learn that it's okay to go and elbow people's groceries.

I do feel sorry for her, because she's clearly begging for attention. It's five in the evening, and she's standing at the bus stop with her sibling, who's perhaps one or two years older, and a woman who's obviously not her mother. The domestic helper--for I'm sure that's who she is--holds the girl's hand and stands like a statue, oblivious to the girl's antics. The girl struggles out of her grasp and begins to run on the sidewalk. I am just beginning to wonder how are children brought up by domestic helpers ever to be taught how to behave when the woman finally gets fed up and gives the girl a little whack on the backside--not hard, but clearly a gesture of discipline.

"Good for you!" I say in my head, a bit surprised.

However, in the next moment, the girl retaliates by hitting the woman back. Then they proceed to engage in a parrying match.

That's when the bus finally pulls up. I wonder if the children will be greeted by the warm, loving embrace of their mother at the end of the bus ride or a dark and empty house. I hope it's the former.