The streets were bustling with people going whichever way they wished, the calls of newsboys echoing the whole way from one end of a street to another. Little children, mainly boys, played in the streets, many with wooden swords and paper hats. Merchants had their carts or stands set up with tempting offers, many of which were occupied with eager customers.
Dara smiled as she made her way through the crowd. She had already been to three places, all of which had politely, yet regretfully turned her down. The sewing factory had informed her that they had already hired too many people; the restaurant informed her they were looking for a busboy; and the flower shop had regretfully turned her away, saying that she was just a year too young. So, as she made her way down a less crowded street, her eyes searched for any place looking for help.
She had reached about the half-way point of the street when she saw a scraggly, yet decently written sign asking for help. She looked at the name of the place, and smiled a bit as the words 'Newsboys Lodging House' filled her eyes. She knew her father wouldn't be extremely happy that she'd be working around boys of all ages, but she also knew that they needed the money, and that he would not turn her down.
The door closed silently behind her, and she tugged at the waist of her skirt. She saw an elderly man, half-asleep it looked, sitting at the main desk. She gently walked over to him, and tapped his shoulder.
He jerked awake, looking at her. He blinked a few times, then sniffed and pushed his hat back onto his head correctly. She smiled simply at him, and he returned it quickly. "Yes? Can I help you missy?"
She nodded, then turned to the window. "I came to see about the help," she said, pointing to the sign. "Are you allowing girls to apply?"
He nodded, then coughed into his hand. "Yes, I am. Right now I could care less if a monkey applied. You see, I'm sick, and I need any help I can get." She nodded as he motioned her to follow him. "The boys help whenever they can, but they're not here half the day, and when they are, they want to have fun or eat, or whatever those boys do," he said, managing a small laugh.
He led her back a narrow hallway, and he had to duck his head under the doorway as he led her into a small stone room. "And I'd hate to force more work on those boys than they already have to deal with. Well, here's the supply room. Not very much, I know, but it gets the place clean and keeps it organized."
He proceeded to tell her where everything was, and how to run the place. He told her about the ten cents per night to stay in, and he also informed her that sometimes he'd let them slip by.
She left that evening, having spent most of the day there practicing everything he had told her. He made sure to get her out before any of the boys returned. She made her way home, wrapping her sweater around her a bit tighter. As the slight cold nipped her ears and nose, she thought back to her first winter in Ireland.
The snow started to fall gently outside, and her eyes widened at the new substance. It was pure white, and it reflected the little moonlight that shone down. It looked so peaceful and quiet compared to the bustle going on in her house right then. She blinked, and wriggled out of the chair.
She was still a babe, so she crawled as unnoticeably as was possible for a one year old. Her little knees and hands padded carefully along the way, making sure that they didn't give out from under her weight. The doorway was getting closer, and she gurgled, her little baby noise going unnoticed by her parents, who were moving about the house, preparing it for dinner.
The light snow fell on to her bare head, stinging her pale flesh with the coldness that accompanied it. But she didn't whine or cry. It felt assuring to her. She dipped her small fingers in to the snow, removing them and watching in awe as the ice crystals melted and disappeared in the warmth emitting from her hand. She gurgled louder this time, and took a few more steps outside the house.
She closed her eyes and slapped her hands in joy against the now snow-covered ground. A smile broke out on her face, revealing her gummed mouth. She screamed in delight, and it was then that her mother realized her baby girl was outside in the cold, and went to retrieve her.
Snow had always been nature's comfort to Dara, as Arcadia favored rain. Their parents had always kept the door open to the house whenever their children could not get to sleep, that way Dara could see the snow falling peacefully down, or Arcadia could hear the rain slapping gently against the ground. It awed them that they never needed anything more than nature to lure them to sleep.
As Dara reached the apartment building she and her family lived in, she looked up, and decided to use the fire escape. She slowly and carefully climbed her way up the metal stairs, some levels covered in laundry that the people occupying the other apartments hung out to dry. She ducked under a few shirts as she continued up.
She reached the window leading into her home, and she paused. She took in a deep breath, then closed her eyes. Her lips parted as the fresh, cool air took shelter in her warm mouth. She smiled, opening her eyes, then turned to the window, entering. She was going to tell her father she had found a job.