5-Year-Old Randy

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I thought this morning about 5-year-old Randy.

I picture him wondering where his father is and when his father may return.

I imagine 5-year-old Randy realizing that he needs to be independent earlier than most of his classmates.

I hope that 5-year-old Randy enjoyed Christmas cookies.

I hope that he received gifts at least every once in a while.

I wonder if his mother told him a couple of times that she couldn’t afford to get him a toy that he asked her to get. I imagine that she apologized to him and said that she was going to try to get him the toy he wanted next time (but that was what she turned out to have to say quite a lot because money was tight).

5-year-old Randy realized early on that at least he had a roof over his head and at least there was electricity and sometimes enough heat in winter and he had to learn not to expect much more.

Randy, I wonder what your Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners were like growing up.

I wonder about your mother carving a turkey.

At least I hope that your mother stayed strong and didn’t fall into a deep depression and took up smoking or, even worse, drugs, or started drinking heavily.