This is how I grew up. Does it exist anymore?

So, as my earlier post referenced, it was garage sale weekend. Which of course brings out the children in the neighborhood to see what wonderful things they might be able to afford with their dimes and nickels.

This picture is how I grew up. Unlike some family pictures from the 50's and early 60's, ours didn't hide some secret dysfunction that would later lead me to make millions on a memoir. We really did have a small town home life, Mom and Dad present and involved, we played in the street with our sibs and friends back in the day when there was almost no traffic and you could play dodge-ball for an hour without having to get out of the street, we played kick the can, we rode our bikes and sold lemonade and walked the alley at night to get fast food without having to worry about pedophiles, we all sat down to dinner together. And never worried that Mom and Dad wouldn't protect us if we needed it. A childhood with few worries. Whatever good things that I've accomplished are a direct result of the way I was raised up.

Which brings me to the little girl across the street. A pretty little third grader who rings my doorbell about once a day and sometimes more. Mostly because her single mother harbors felons, there are strange men in and out of the house across the street daily, police contact is regular and I suspect (and police have confirmed) drug use (but not dealing - how reassuring) in the home. She rides her little bike aimlessly around the neighborhood. So during my Sale of the Century, she came over and hung out in my driveway. She sat on the warm sidewalk and played with some little wicker doll furniture from the sale, making up a little story in a murmured voice about an imaginary duck that lived in the house.

Someone has given her manners, so I guess I give her mother that. She is polite and sweet. I so worry about her in that household, with various young men in and out, and her being so precocious and cute. And so desperately in need of love and attention.

That little crack you hear? My heart breaking.