✷ to live in the richest country in the world
She was sitting outside H&M, on the cobblestones of the high street, as shoppers in cashmere sweaters brushed past her. I assumed she was a student, before I took in the child in her arms and the sign propped next to her. She looked so young. Green eyes. She should have been a student at the college just a few blocks away. But here she was, cradling her child while scooping yogurt out of a container with a spoon.
I gave her some money and asked her how old her daughter was. One and a half. I asked her how old she was. She was my exact same age.
She was my exact same age.
Two blocks north, children in sweaters monogrammed with the insignia of their private school played in leaf-shaded neighborhoods.
Her child was so quiet. I cannot fathom what it is to be homeless when you are one and a half years old.