Imagine this scene:
A little girl is walking barefoot in a raggedy frock down the road. On her head, she’s carrying a big, heavy bundle of wood. Her frame is barely able to support this load. A long way ahead of her walks her mother, carrying the load with ease, for she has carried it since she was a little girl herself.
Suddenly, the little girl stops. She spies a toy lying on the side of the road. It’s a doll with a missing arm. It’s probably spilt over from the overflowing garbage bin nearby.
Our girl had longed for a doll for many days now. She’s knows her folks can’t afford it, and dolls are resigned to the world of dreams, never to be realized. And here lies this doll, waiting to be picked up and taken home.
She wants to bend and pick it up. But there lies the catch. If she does anything except walk straight, the bundle of wood will fall to the ground. The delicate string that holds the wood together will break, and the wood will scatter. A sound beating is sure to follow. And as with all angry mothers, there’s always the chance that the offending doll will be snatched away.
Should she risk it for the chance of owning a doll, even if for a little while?