Early Saturday

It was pouring rain when perfect sweetness came to my door.
"Envelope" she repeated in carefully practiced English,
taking it out of the dollar store bag while balancing the enormous umbrella 
on her bitty shoulder.
Unruly red curls sprung out from her snug kerchief.
She smiled all over as she handed it to me.
In her sparkling eyes I read the question.
"Candy?"
"Too early," my mind answered. But I only smiled in return,
and spoke a few kind words.
I watched her march dutifully home, in big brother's shoes.
So what was it about still being in pink pajama pants
that made me feel so practical?
"Candy next time," I promised myself, "no matter how 
early on a Saturday morning."