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After speaking with the adopted girl, I realized not everything was as clear as it seemed.

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Beside me on a bench sat a little girl, perhaps five years old. She swung her legs as she spoke to me about her life:

Ive never met my dadhe left me and mum when I was very small. Mum passed away last year. The grown-ups told me shed died.

She looked at me, then carried on: After the funeral, my aunt Helenmums sistercame to live with me. I was told she was very generous not to send me to a childrens home. They explained Aunt Helen had become my guardian now, and Id be living with her from then on.

She paused, glancing down beneath the bench, before continuing: When I moved in, Aunt Helen started sorting out our house, putting mums things in a corner and wanting to throw them away. I started crying and begged her not to. She let me keep them in the end. Now I sleep in that corner every night. I stretch out over mums belongingsits warm there, almost like shes still beside me.

Every morning, Aunt Helen gives me something to eat. Shes not the best cook; mum was much better, but Aunt Helen asks that I eat everything she serves. I dont want to upset her, so I always finish my meals. I know she makes an effort when she cooks, and its not her fault she cant cook like mum did. Afterwards, she sends me out for a walk, and Im not allowed back until dusk. Aunt Helen is very, very kind!

She loves to brag about me to her friends. I dont know those ladies, but they come round all the time. Aunt Helen sits with them over a cup of tea, shares funny stories, says nice things about me, and treats us all to biscuits and sweets.

The girl sighed and went on:

I cant eat sweets all the time though. Aunt Helen has never scolded me, not once. She always treats me nicely. One day, she even gave me a doll. Well, the doll isnt perfectits got a bad leg and a wobbly eye. Mum never gave me a doll like that.

Suddenly, the girl hopped off the bench and began bouncing on one leg.

I have to go! Aunt Helen said her friends are coming today, and I have to get dressed nicely before they arrive. She promised Id have some cake after, so bye for now!

With that, she jumped off and hurried away to do her errands. I sat there for a long time, lost in thought, and all my reflections swirled around good Aunt Helen. I wondered: what motivates her kindness? Why does she want everyone to think shes noble? How could someone look at a child sleeping on the floor, wrapped in her late mothers clothes, and feel nothing?

Today, I learned that kindness isnt always what it appears to be, and sometimes, what children need most is true comfort and understanding, not just a show for others.

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