"She opened her arms. I should have kept mine closed."
It was a sunny day in a new neighborhood, the third one I had moved into that year.
I walked slowly, observing the streets. The houses all looked alike, fences lined with rusted gates, stray dogs wandering aimlessly, and children playing and shouting somewhere far off.
I never stayed long enough to form a real connection, not even with the neighbors. The nature of my job kept me moving, always packing up and starting again before I could grow roots.
People said I needed stability, but I never saw the point.
It wasn't long before I arrived at a small shop with a faded umbrella spread across the front.
Inside, the air smelled of groundnuts and old nylon bags. The shelves leaned under biscuits, sweets, and packs of juice. I moved to the counter and asked for a few snacks.
While the vendor gathered them, I felt eyes on me.
At the far side of the shop sat a woman in a simple wrapper and blouse. Her hair was tied neatly, and her face calm. When our eyes met, she smiled in a way that felt both welcoming and strange, as if she recognized me before I had the chance to know her.
My attention returned as the seller placed the snacks on the counter. I reached into my purse, searching through the pockets, turning over papers and keys, but the money I thought I had was not there. I checked again, slower this time, but the purse was empty.
"I will be back for them," I said quietly, pushing the snacks aside and stepping back into the heat of the street.
I hurried toward the nearest ATM. The machine hummed as I counted the cash and slipped the notes quickly into my purse before walking back.
When I returned to the shop, I slowed my steps.
The same woman who had smiled at me before was bent over a little girl, no more than three years old.
The child wriggled in her grip, shaking her head as the woman tried to press a spoon toward her mouth. The girl broke free, small feet slapping against the dusty ground as she ran in circles, laughing and refusing to eat.
I paid the seller and picked up the snacks, though my eyes stayed on the woman outside. She looked tired, her hand reaching again and again for the little girl who refused to stay still.
Somehow, I moved before I even thought about it. I stepped toward the child and held out one of the snacks. She glanced at it, then at me. Her eyes lit up, but instead of reaching for it, she broke into a run, her tiny feet scattering dust.
I went after her, but not too fast, just enough to keep her within reach. Each time I stretched out the snack, she darted away, shrieking with delight.
I kept following, adjusting my steps so she couldn't get too far. We circled like that, back and forth, until at last she slowed. She stopped a few feet from me, staring at the snack in my hand.
This time, she walked forward with small, careful steps. She reached out her tiny hand, and the moment her skin touched it, I scooped her up before she could pull away.
She didn't struggle in my arms. She went very still. Her eyes met mine, wide and searching.
I smoothed her hair back gently.
"You don't have to do anything," I told her softly. "I'll do it for you."
For a long moment, neither of us moved. It felt like more than a glance, as if she was trying to understand something about me.
We were caught in that stillness when a shadow fell over us. The woman stepped in quickly and pulled a small shirt over the girl's shoulders, then lifted her out of my arms and held her tight against her chest, as if she was afraid of leaving her exposed for long.
My arms suddenly felt empty, like something had been taken back.
"Thank you." Her eyes lingered on me.
"She never lets anyone close. Not even me some days." She glanced at the girl, who now rested quietly against her chest.
I stared at the child and blinked, unsure what to say. My arms still felt the weight of the little body, and the warmth of her skin. "She… she's sweet," I managed. Children were always easier. They didn't question things the way adults did.
The woman studied me for a moment, then her mouth curved into that same soft smile I'd seen earlier. "You should come by sometime. If she lets you hold her, it means she's comfortable with you. That does not happen often."
I nodded politely, clutching my snacks as if they could anchor me. "Maybe."
As I turned to leave, the child's soft breathing still echoed in my ears, and the woman's smile lingered with me longer than it should have.
There was something about that moment that clung to me, something I kept replaying long after I should have let it go.
—The stranger at the gate shall become as thine own, yet her arms shall deliver thee unto ruin.