A Little Pink

I wiped away my tears, but fresh ones kept pouring. I dabbed them away with my damp hanky as fast as I could, but I couldn’t seem to work fast enough to keep my cheeks dry.

It was rather embarrassing to be caught crying in the middle of a hotel lobby, but I couldn’t help myself. It had been a trying day, work wise, and my anxiety only fueled my out pour of emotion.

So I did what crybabies like me do when pushed into a corner: I cried. Freely and relentlessly cried.

Between dabs of my hanky and loud sniffs, I sometimes saw people stare openly at me, as if with compassion, maybe even mercy. But then I’d cry even more, and they’d just walk away, probably scared off – if not disgusted – by my shameless display.

Just when I was wiping away tears for the nth time, I heard rowdy steps come toward me, and little pink shoes stopped right in front of me. I looked up to see a little girl of maybe 4 years stare at me with a rather curious look.

Tears were still falling from my eyes as I surveyed her with her high pigtails, her bright pink dress, and her clenched up fists, but she said nothing and merely continued staring.

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable about this girl when she opened up one hand to me to reveal a little lollipop right in the center. I was taken aback by her gesture and didn’t know what to do about it, so she dropped the candy on my lap and ran away.

I stared at the bright pink lollipop and picked it up. While wiping my eyes for the last time, I laughed. Kids. I shook my head and removed the wrapper on the lolly. I smiled as soon as I tasted the sugar on my tongue, and I leaned back into my chair, tickled pink by the little moment.

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Image source: etsy.com/listing/173496702/watercolor-painting-pink-baby-booties
First written December 15, 2017.
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