One Spring afternoon, I came home to find two little girls on the steps of my building. Both were crying hard, shedding big tears. Thinking they might be hurt, I dropped my briefcase and quickly went over to them. “Are you all right?” I asked.
Still sobbing, one held up her doll. “My baby’s arm came off,” she said.
I took the doll and its disjointed arm. After a little effort and luck, the doll was again whole. “Thank you,” came a whisper from the girl as I handed her the doll back. Next, looking into the tearful eyes of her friend, I asked, “And what’s the matter with you, young lady?”
She wiped her cheeks and said, “Oh I’m okay, I was just helping her cry.”