Main Branch

There was a little Japanese boy walking in front of me when I left the library today. It was early evening and the sun had just set. He quickened his pace as soon as my footsteps opened the automatic door behind him. I feel bad for scaring him, but I also remember that age, when 25 year-olds were so intimidating. Because of that guilt, I crossed the street so as not to force him to look over his shoulder at me and worry him. He can't be older than 10 and he's all by himself, which I find offsetting. Though I grew up in the city and was fairly independent, my parents never let me walk through an area this busy by myself. Is he neglected, or just well-adjusted? I honestly can't tell.

Seeing him walk down Queen Street instantly reminds me of walking east on Kingston in my own youth and how fondly I look back on my childhood. On one hand, I miss being that young and carefree dearly, but on the other I have still maintained some of that outlook today, I think.

I look both ways at Duke Street and begin to cross, having seen that there is no traffic. The little boy looks at me anxiously. I can see that he understands he will be able to cross safely and wants to show me that he is cool enough to jay-walk, but I can also see his mother's voice in the back of his head reminding him "Wait until the light changes to walk!" The look kind of breaks my heart because I can still remember the time of being young and wanting to impress the older kids.