Charity

They came with charity wrapped in colourful

tissue paper, threads of flowing ribbons trailing.

She was six and wondered, when she opened the gift,

why the tall doll she found inside looked more like them

than her, had only one arm, scant clothing and 

one ill-fitting small plastic pink shoe.

Whose stringy hair was a curious yellow, whose 

left eye was missing, whose right eye was stuck open.

Whose legs moved back and forth, as if it wanted to

escape. Who was nearly as tall as she. Whose body was

smooth and rigid. Could she crack it open with a good 

hammer whack?

She told no one she was afraid of this thing.

She simply insisted it not be kept in the room

she shared with her sisters. At night, she wondered

what it was doing sitting alone, hidden

under the Serbian Spruce in the back yard,

a small wheelless toy fire truck for company.

She had refused to give it a name. No one knew

what happened to it.