I never knew where the girl had come from. She just appeared one morning as the night's dew was still sparkling in the rising sun. She showed promise of being one of those one-in-a-million, as far as beauty was concerned, but at that time her inner beauty and life force was apparent at once. Her hair was dark brown and she had a sweet, heart shaped face, an elfin smile, but sad brown eyes and, of course, a girlish figure. Her eyes were what one noticed first. It was as though she had seen hell with the gates wide open. I would have guessed that her age was about thirteen years old. She was dressed in a peasant blouse, a midi skirt of blue and shiny patent leather shoes.

She was just standing there by the traffic light at the corner of Main and the cross street, Pilcher.

"Hello, Mister." Her expression was sad, as she spoke and looked up as I stood waiting for the light to change.