To a Young Girl at a Window

by Margaret Widdemer

 

 

The Poor Old Soul plods down the street, 

Contented, and forgetting 

How Youth was wild, and Spring was wild 

And how her life is setting; 

 

And you lean out to watch her there, 

And pity, nor remember, 

That Youth is hard, and Life is hard, 

And quiet is December. 

About this poem: Margaret Widdemer often wrote in traditional poetic forms, and many of her poems explore the social issues of early twentieth century. She first received widespread attention with the publication of her poem "The Factories," which tackled the subject of child labor.

(Source: Academy of American Poets via Poets.org)

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At times, I feel glad to be able to read essential poetry and collect it too. While reading this poem I was reminded of "When you are old" by William Butler Yeats.

Is sorrow too private to be concealed under thicknesses of fake contentedness? Do we restrict our compassion towards people based on their privileged upbringing? Or lesser privileges? 

Last night, an event made me uncomfortable. And, the reason for the discomfort was an Ice-cream. A friend was promoted in his job and wanted to share the news with us. We met by the sea and had a conversation while witnessing the glorious sunset which he remarked, "was like the end of his failures and unhappiness." From now on, only happiness and a successful life to look forward to. Me being a good friend who's happy about his achievements thought over it. He told us WE must celebrate! And promptly crossed the road to a Baskin Robbins Ice-cream parlor. It was my first venture to this chain and I promptly selected a flavor after being egged by my friend. THAT ice cream froze in my mouth when I saw my friend paying an enormous amount for three ice cream scoops. Just outside this shop, was a young five year old girl in rags selling a bunch of roses and tracing her hand over a bike parked nearby. She would also see at the glass front of the shop and then look at the roses and people holding ice cream cones, coming out of the shop. I felt so ashamed to carry that cone in my hands while coming out. It felt like a betrayal of my own self. I was enjoying an exorbitantly priced ice-cream while she was out on the streets already compromising on her childhood. 

This guilt that has emerged is troubling me and also making me realize I cannot live without thinking/ being responsible for my actions.