Giant Beans

She was stolen from her parents when she was five years old while waiting for a bus. There were big colourful bean shaped seats meant for patrons of the public transit system to wait on and take in the refreshing smells and sounds of a small garden in the middle of downtown. She saw the same giant beans almost everyday but she never played on them again. Was it so horrible that she knew what happened to her and didn't do anything to find her real parents? Everyday she sat in the bus and was brought to the giant beans and thought asked that question to the window pane. She hadn't been so young when she was lead by the hand of an old woman away from her family and she remembered what those people meant to her. They were disorderly and mean people that hardly fed her and just barely clothed her. These people that occasionally put her to bed at night would strike her in foul moods and lock her in closets so as not to be bothered by her presence. She was always hungry and dirty and stopped going to school because no one cared if she went or not. Her things were kept in a garbage bag.
Then came a very nice lady who cried for her and promised her that Jesus loved her very much. These days she knew that Jesus was really just an idea and she watched those giant beans everyday through the thin pane of glass and remembered how ideas saved her and how ideas loved her. Something invisible loved her more than her real parents did and although she didn't choke up anymore at the idea, a big stone of sadness was still sitting at the bottom of her stomach. She loved her new mother more than Jesus ever could and always would but pain has a long memory and the stone of sadness would not be digested.
That particular day, a group of kindergarten children were waiting for a bus to the museum and while they stopped they played on the giant beans. They rolled over them and jumped off of them and slid down the sides. No one looked very hungry or especially filthy and this warmed the frosty hurt inside her. She smiled to herself and at that stop a boy her age sat down next to her and excused his guitar because it was rather large. They talked about music for almost half an hour and about half a year later they moved in with eachother. Eventually, they bought a car together and she didn't pass by those giant beans anymore. Eventually, the giant stone beans at the bottom of her stomach shrank like the wad that is eaten away with time and acid when you stop swallowing all your gum. They moved with her mother and their new daughter to just outside Toronto and those giant beans never saw her again.