Winter is brutal. Wind and ice travel through the air, scratching at your face. I was just a boy, 7 years old, and my sister was 8 years old. We spent every weekend and every day off school locked in our basement because our parents didn’t trust us. The cold, unfinished basement and a single twin-sized mattress and the television that we had were our only saviors. We had one blanket between the two of us.
Every morning when our parents had to go to work they would wake us up and send us downstairs locking the door behind us. We would go straight to the mattress and lay foot to face with each other. Most mornings I would let her have the bed and the blanket. The cold never affected me as it did her. I and my sister Maria played in the snow a lot as younger kids. Something change I suppose. I remember one vicious winter, we had a school cancellation. We were sent to the basement. However our basement had a door leading outside to the garage, but we could not get in from the garage.
One particular day, one of my friends was shoveling my other neighbor's driveway and I went out to help him. He gave me 10 dollars, which I refused. He insisted that I take the money, so I did. Later I and my sister decided that I would run up the road to the gas station that was a mile up the road or so. So I got some clothes on and a jacket and started my journey. We had been left to starve that day and so the meal was a necessity.
I didn’t realize how cold it was, but the food I was gonna get would be delicious, so I persisted. At one point the cold seemed to be killing me, I fell to the ground and cried, the coldest, most empty cry I’ve ever cried. I made it to the gas station an hour later. I only had enough for a couple of sandwiches and a drink which froze on the way back. The journey back was no better, the cold wind smashed against my innocent little face without a sorrow.
I felt I shouldn’t have done it, looking back. But the meal was worth it, God knows we needed it. We were blessed to have a neighbor who was willing to share a few dollars.
That day an acquaintance meant more to me than my own parents.