“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
Eleanor Roosevelt


When I was five, I decided I wanted to be like President Roosevelt’s wife, Eleanor when I grew up. Her entire life was dedicated to others and it was her encouragement that gave Franklin the will to pursue his destiny despite his polio. “We are privileged to have someone like Eleanor Roosevelt in the White House,” my mother told me. “She is always ready to protect the downtrodden.”

“Are we downtrodden?” I asked my mother.

“Not yet,” she said. “But if we were, Eleanor Roosevelt would come to our aid.”

“Is Dale Brodsky downtrodden?” I asked and my mother nodded.

“You could call him that,” she said.

Dale Brodsky’s father was the janitor of our building and he lived in the basement with his parents and his four little sisters. I knew they were very poor because my mother sent me downstairs with our leftover food almost every night and whenever we cleaned out our closets she gave everything I had outgrown to Dale’s little sisters.

Every afternoon, Dale cut school to watch the trains come into the station. “I just love trains,” I told Dale. “Do you think you could take me to the station sometime?”

“Sure,” said Dale. “How about this Saturday?”

“I’ll have to ask my mother,” I said. “She’s the one who makes all the decisions in our house.”

“My father is in charge of our house,” said Dale. ”He says women are worthless.”

“They are NOT,” I said. “Just who do you think is the most important person in this country?”

“The president!” said Dale. “He’s in charge of everything.”

“Wrong!” I said. “Eleanor Roosevelt is the one who runs the White House and she helps downtrodden people like you.”

“Eleanor Roosevelt ain’t done a thing for me,” said Dale. “My father said its them fools in Washington who step all over the little guy and won’t let him earn a decent wage. That’s why we’re so poor.”

“My mother says you are only poor if you think you are. She told me just yesterday that the best things in life are free,” I retorted.

Dale put his hand on his hips. “Yeah?“ he said. “Name one.”

I was on solid ground here. I knew loads of free things that were great. “A rainbow!” I said triumphantly.

“You can’t wear a rainbow when it’s pouring outside,“ said Dale.

“Well I know that, “ I said. “But who would want to wear a rainbow anyway? You’re supposed to just look at it.”

“Listen, said Dale. “If you follow me, I’ll give you something to look at that really is the best and it doesn’t cost a cent.”

By this time the sun was very low in the sky there was a breeze sweeping through the trees. “Let me go in the house to put on a sweater,” I said.

“You’re a sissy!” said Dale.

“No, I’m not,” I said. “I’m just cold.”

Dale put his arm around me. “I’ll keep you warm,” he said.

I followed him behind the garage and looked around. All I saw was a broken wheelbarrow and Dale’s bicycle with the pedal missing. “I don’t see anything that wonderful back here,” I said.

Dale nodded. “But you will,” he said and took down his trousers. I looked at him and I still didn’t see anything very amazing. “Now you take off your pants and we can really have fun!”

I shook my head. “Eleanor Roosevelt would never do a thing like that,” I said. “Even for the downtrodden!”

I turned and ran into the house. My mother looked up from the stove as I ran in the door, the tears running down my face. “There you are!” she exclaimed. “I was just going outside to find you. What were you doing?”

“I was trying to be kind to the needy,” I said. “But it didn’t work.”

My mother waved her spatula at me and looked very righteous. “Sometimes, people don’t value the good things you do for them, Lynnie Ruth,” she said. “But that mustn’t stop you. It is our obligation to humanity to help others no matter how little they appreciate our efforts.”

“Dale told me there was something wonderful inside his jeans but all I saw was his dirty underwear,” I informed my mother. “Would Eleanor Roosevelt have seen something else?”

My mother paused and then she nodded. “Lynn Ruth,” she said. “A lot of men are going to tell you that,” she observed. “But they are wrong. Life gives us many better opportunities for happiness than anything we can get when we take off our clothes.”

“I don’t understand . . .”I said and my mother kissed me. “I know you don’t, honey. But Eleanor Roosevelt does.”


Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you’ll be criticized anyway.
Eleanor Roosevelt