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New York
can be a cold city, especially in January. So Miss Polly and two of
her girls dressed in their stylish and warm mink coats and calf-high
boots as they started their shopping trip.
As they
rounded a Broadway side street, they saw a shivering barefooted black
boy hopping in place on the wet sidewalk in front of the spacious shoe
store window.
“You must
be freezing,” Polly said.
‘It is
cold,” the youngster said. “But I wanted God to see the shoes I was
praying for—the dark brown ones with the high tops and laces. I’ve been
praying for those shoes for three days but I really need them now!”
“Let’s all
go inside,” she said in a motherly tone. “Let’s get you out of the
slush and into the warm store.”
The
well-dressed ladies and the raggedly dressed shoeless boy entered and
sat in fitters’ chairs in the almost empty store.
Cherry,
the tall young girl with the orange hair, sauntered to the hosiery rack
and selected a half-dozen pair of warm socks.
Lana, the
short peroxide blond, sashayed to the desk and sweetly asked for a basin
with warm water, a cake of soap and a towel. She gave these to Polly,
who dropped to her knees and washed and dried the boys feet, watching
their color change back from an almost frostbite purple to their natural
mahogany.
She asked
the lad his size and ordered the shoes he had prayed so passionately
for. They fit perfectly!
“He’ll
wear them,” she told the clerk as she opened her purse and paid with
bills she peeled off her large wad of cash.
The
excited boy kissed his benefactor on her bright lips.
“Are you
God’s wife?” he asked.
The girls
giggled and Polly Adler, the infamous brothel keeper, kissed the boy and
said, “Some men think so.”
Ron Gold
outthinkresumes@aol.com |
