"Ice Cream Vendor Riding Bicycle Past Colorful House, Granada, Nicaragua" x 3,by Margie Politzer
[Psychology Yesterday (Just so's you know what you're getting into):]
It was a hot day in Brooklyn, I'll readily admit that. I was a little girl who had an overwhelming feeling of generosity in wanting to help the nice man driving the ice cream bicycle vendor. It was such a powerful intention and response, I remember it 45 years later. I watched silently for a long moment as person after person passed him by. I saw the look of need on his face and recognized it.
"Please, may I buy an ice cream from him? He seems such a nice man."
"No!" Dragged across street as the light turned green. I tried to explain my little girl motives that only now, these many years later are being placed in font.
I was accused of wanting him to buy me a delicious treat AND deceptively disguising it as some kind of undeserved compassion.
"That's worse than being greedy. It's being crafty, and you will learn that 'crafty' is not allowed. Not while I still have a say in the matter."
Little girls dragged around landscape and mind scape by adult males.
To me, it no longer hurts in varied threads that make rope, now installed within.
Wounded; trying to fly. Still.
No. Give, UP. No.
P.S. All these years later I've come to understand in discussion, that maybe that was a shtick... a ploy...and it's a paren't job to help you survive in the world, weed out manipulation. I just can't help myself seeing it the little girl way, perhaps to a fault? Thanks to P.M.