A woman sits and stares out of her back window at the world outside, at the children playing, at the adults who don't seem to notice or care what their children are up to, how they are neglecting life. This story is full of detail and reads almost like a list of characters more than it does a story--at least until the conclusion where this quote sums up the entire piece:
"I sometimes wonder if the kind spirits who feel an interest in mortals ever take a look at us on the shady side which we don't show the world, seeing the trouble, vanities, and sins which we think no one knows. If they love, pity, or condemn us? What records they keep, and what rewards they prepare for those who are so busy with their work and play that they forget who may be watching their back windows with clearer eyes and truer charity than any inquisitive old lady with a pen in her hand?"
This was a lovely and surprisingly fresh read for me. I wasn't expecting this from Alcott.
A link to the online story is here: