The money in my pocket lifted my spirits a little, but it didn’t last long.
It was already after two in the afternoon, people were out and about, and still nothing.
Not a single customer, not even to dust off their shoes and relieve themselves of a tostão.
I stood near a lamppost on the highway and shouted from time to time in my high-pitched voice:
Shoeshine, mister? Shoeshine, sir? Get a shoeshine and help the poor at Christmas!
A rich man’s car stopped nearby. I took the opportunity to shout again, not at all hopeful.
A helping hand, sir? To help the poor at Christmas.
The well-dressed woman and children in the back seat sat there staring and staring at me.
The woman took pity on me.Poor little thing, so small and so poor. Give him something, Artur.
But the man was eyeing me suspiciously.That one there’s a little delinquent, and a wily one at that. He’s taking advantage of his size and the day.
Well, I’m going to give him something anyway. Come here, son.
She opened her handbag and stuck her hand out the window.
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