Brian didn’t like giving to beggars, but something about the tiny form of the baby slumbering next to the filthy woman moved him. He reached into his pocket and drew out his wallet. He hesitated, then put a $20 bill in the woman’s tin cup.
« Bless you, sir, bless you! » the woman cried, then she quickly took the $20 and tucked it away in her bra. As he walked down the street, Brian could hear her whining voice. « Please, miss, it’s for my baby! I don’t have money for food… »
The next day, the woman was there again, sitting against the wall, chanting the same pleas for help to feed her child. The same thing happened the following days, only her tatty clothes changed. Sometimes her sweater was cherry-red, another time acid-yellow, or a dirty purple.
What never changed was the baby. It always lay by her side, eyes closed, the breeze stirring its soft blond curls, caressing the rosy cheeks. The baby was so still that Brian started to think it might be one of those awful reborn dolls he’d heard about.
So one day, Brian came up to the woman and gave her another $20 and bent down and caressed the sleeping baby’s cheek. It was a real child, alright! It stirred slightly at his touch and opened pale blue eyes.
The woman wasn’t pleased by Brian’s gesture. « Here now! » she screamed. « What are you doing touching my baby? Are you some pervert? » She raised her voice and started calling out to the people passing by.
