“High five!” she said. The little boy stood on tiptoes to reach her hand, slapping his hand against hers. She stooped down to his level and pressed her fingers together.

“Baby five!” he shrieked, bumping his tiny pressed fingers into hers. The boy giggled with delight at their usual goodbyes.

When he laughed, which he often did, he exposed some of his already rotten milk teeth. She had urged the boy’s mother to buy a toothbrush. The mother did. The toothbrush disappeared within days, most likely nicked by a visiting family member or neighbor.

She reached her car and sighed. In her early career, she had bought toothbrushes and soap bars for some of her clients. Eventually she stopped. There were so many kids, so many needs.

“Poverty persists,” she thought, recalling how this boy’s young mother had once been one of the children she had given a toothbrush.

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^{Photo by Alex Padurariu on Unsplash}