It snowed on my ninth birthday - big fat flakes that covered the grass. The colorful parkas of everyone playing in the snow contrasted against the purity of the backdrop. I was watching from the kitchen window.

I had wanted a doll.
A Barbie.
With her beautiful blonde hair and her perfect figure - and dainty outfits so that I could dress her up.

I didn't get anything for my birthday that yearÖ

Looking back - I see it all so clearly, so logically. Of course I couldn't have a Barbie. We simply couldn't afford one. We could barely afford to put food on the table. There was no money for anything so frivolous as a doll.

She cried that night. I heard her sobbing into her pillow.
I didn't remember until years later.
But the feeling of guilt threatens to choke me every time.