excerpt from:
Cup of Comfort for Christmas
Toy Soldiers
Pat Gallant
My aunt was waiting at the train station when we arrived. I was so excited to see my little cousin! But when we walked through the door of their home, my aunt announced that she had found a perfect playmate for me, a boy who had just moved into the apartment next door. A boy. That meant trouble. Boys were the ones who teased you at school, pulled your hair, and called you dirty names you didn’t understand and your mother wouldn’t explain to you. They carried out their threats to punch you in the stomach, so hard you gasped for air. At five and a half, I’d learned that it was best to stay away from boys, and I for sure didn’t want one for a friend.
Despite my earnest protests, my aunt went next door and fetched Freddie. He was a little younger than I, having just turned five, but he was much taller. He came in and we were introduced. Neither of us spoke. I knew I was safe as long as the adults were around, but I didn’t relish being alone with him. So when he asked me to come over to see his toy soldiers-“Because,” he said, looking askance at my doll collection, “there isn’t anything good to play with here”-I hesitated.
Pat Gallant