Product of the Times

January 30, 2011
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"Mama, what's that?" asked a little girl in a red dress, pointing down a nearby alley.

"Scum. Filth. Trash. The garbage of this world," replied the mother in a long brown coat, after glancing in the direction of the inquisitively pointing finger.

"No mama, not dumpster. The thing sitting next to it. What is that?" asked the curious little girl with her hair in braids.

"Scum. Filth. Trash. The garbage that none of us want to help clean up," replied the hardened mother in the too-tight brown shoes.

"No mama, not that mangy stray dog, that thing next to it, petting it. What is that?" asked the innocent little girl with a friendly smile.

"Scum. Filth. Trash. The grime underneath our fingernails that never gets cleaned out," replied the hurting mother, with no intent to change.





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