The weekend just gone saw a
near tragedy in Twain Street.
Pauly, 8-years-old and
Simon, 12-years-old live with their Mum, Pia – a single mother who emigrated
from Chile 15 years ago. The boys have lived at number 10 Twain Street all
their lives.
Much to their mother’s great
anxiety, the boys have a habit of kicking a soccer ball on the road. No one in
the street blames them for this. They don’t have a backyard and there’s nowhere
close by to go and play.
Last Saturday afternoon they
were out on the street, kicking the ball around, when a car screeched around the
corner and missed Pauly by just centimetres. Pia witnessed this from her front
window, as did myself and several other neighbours.
She ran out, hysterical.
Picking Pauly up off the road, she hugged him tightly, alternating between crying
from relief that he was unhurt and chastising him for playing on the road. We were all relieved – Pauly could have been killed.
When everyone had calmed
down and gone back their respective homes, I thought about what had just
happened. Now over the shock, I became angry. I thought about my childhood and
the huge backyards that were completely taken for granted. Surely it’s every
kid’s right to have somewhere safe to kick a soccer ball or just run around and
play.
I sat down at my computer
and started emailing invites to our Community Day (the following Saturday) to our Mayor and local Councillors.
No comments:
Post a Comment