Wishing I Could Undo
What Has Already Been Done

In second grade I was given a daisy chain by the girlfriend
of another little girl who was afraid to give it to me herself,
and because there were other boys around when I received
it who were laughing and teasing me, I tore it apart in front
of them and left the pieces on the ground near one of the school
benches. And though I only vaguely remember that the girl who
liked me had red hair and freckles and was tall for her age, the
main thing is that from time to time in the past fifty-five years
I’ve reflected on what I’d done and wondered how it affected
the little girl from that day onward, who I never saw again
after we moved from the neighborhood about six months later.
What I do know is that if I ever encountered this girl again,
I would beg her forgiveness and try to explain why I did what
I did, telling her that at the time I didn’t know how to deal with
a little girl liking me and that the peer pressure at the moment
was so great I didn’t consider the hurt I’d cause a little girl who
had made a daisy chain specially for me. And now I feel sad
whenever I remember, and wish I could go back and undo what
has already been done... like so many other events in my life...