Haves

 Andrew was sitting outside the principal's office. School had been out for more than half an hour, and though he was sometimes reticent to get himself to after school program, he did not show up as a kid who just didn't want to be in class. 

"Andrew, are you okay?"

"Leave me alone," he glowered from behind half-lidded eyes. The streaks on his face said he had been crying. His sadness, as was his way, had crystalized into vague antipathy.

I tried again, "Andrew, is there anything I can do?"

"Leave me alone." Each word given emphasis. He was not currently taking calls. 

I checked with our after school director, who related to me the story of a young man who had gone to see about getting a yo-yo from our fundraising campaign. This young man was extremely disappointed to discover that the entry-level yo-yo came at the princely price of ten dollars. He did not have ten dollars. He was very frustrated. A bunch of other kids, translated at the time by this young man as "everyone," had yo-yos. He did not. 

This young man was Andrew. Now the frustration with his circumstances had a hard edge. Inconsolable, he sat just around the corner from where the yo-yos were being sold. The easiest possible solution would have been to buy him a yo-yo and move on from there. But this path was fraught with danger. What if his parents had already told him that he could not have a yo-yo? Andrew's parents were famous for their continuing negotiations with their periodically recalcitrant son. The list of "if-then" in their household was everchanging. 

"Maybe we could call dad and see if he could get you a yo-yo when he comes to pick you up?"

"I already called him," he grumbled. "He said no."

Which relieved me of any further deal making on that end. I tried another tack: "Did you ask one of the kids in your class if you could try theirs?" This suggestion was met with harrumph. For so many of the kids at my school, ownership is the important thing. Having something is very different from using it. Not that different from most of the rest of America, but the distance between the haves and have nots is felt more acutely. 

The after school director and I eventually coaxed Andrew out of his corner with the possibility of next week. The sale would continue. More opportunities for yo-yos. A few more days to raise ten dollars. A few more days to finagle the situation. And a snack. Andrew was happy to have a snack. No one else got a second snack.