Need
Hey, Mister!
“You can’t always get what you want”
Children cluttered the track. They blocked my path and often I had to steer around them. Some of them shuffled, dragging their feet over gravel and raising clouds of red dust. Others — mostly girls — walked arm in arm. They jammed my running lanes and forced me to skip on and off the trail.
They were in my way.
And it disturbed me.
One boy, in particular, got under my skin. He walked alone, mumbling, and each time I passed him he called out to me. “Hey, Mister,” he’d say. But I would just ignore him, picking up my pace and jogging on.
He did it without fail.
Incessantly.
He stole my thoughts when all I wanted was to think about my son. Since we hadn’t spoken with each other for over a year, I needed now, this day, to figure a way to mend our fractured relationship. But it wasn’t to be. As I continued jogging — praying for God’s advice, trying to feel His word — this dark imp kept interrupting me.
“Mister!”
He spoke on cue.
“Hey, Mister!”
Once, glancing at him as I passed, I guessed he was about ten years old. He looked at me with a wrinkled nose. It supported black…
