Black Fire"

When our new neighbors arrived, everyone was very agitated. Everyone stood by the curtain, watching the approaching trucks. Everyone felt the same thing in their hearts. Fear. Fear of the unknown.

For the first time, black people were about to move into our neighborhood. Negroes.

I was a small child, maybe five years old then.

For the next few weeks, nothing else was talked about. At every social gathering, my parents brought up the topic of our new neighbors. Whenever my mother picked me up from preschool, she kept me away from the black girl's mother. She forbade me from playing with her. I often watched her. She was playing with her favorite doll in the corner of the room. Alone. Everyone was afraid to approach her. Afraid, though to this day, I don't quite understand why.

That night, I woke up to my mother's screams. I ran out of bed and took my doll, which I took everywhere. The room was strangely bright. The door to the house was open. I ran after my parents.

Our neighbors' house was engulfed in flames. I'll never forget that sight. The fire hissed as if it were snakes, slowly consuming all their belongings. All four of them were standing outside. They had managed to escape. Everyone in their pajamas stared in horror at the burning house. No one rushed to help. No one approached to comfort them. No one reacted. Everyone simply stood there, pointing at each other as if it were a spectacle. A spectacle you could enjoy without paying admission. I watched the girl. Tears slowly streamed down her face.

My parents were so distraught that they didn't notice me retreating. I slowly approached my friend. When I was close enough, I heard her say to her mother, "My doll's left in bed."

Then something inside me broke. My conscience stirred in my little five-year-old heart. I didn't hesitate for long. I grabbed the girl's hand and handed her my doll. My beloved Zuzia.

"I'm Marta," I said.

The girl stared at me with her big eyes. I didn't understand it then. Now I know that trust flowed from her eyes. Simple, childlike trust. Because she lacked someone she could trust. Simply because she was Black.