Little Richie hurried along as fast as his little legs could manage. Today he was pretending to be a dutiful soldier as he wove down the sidewalk to accomplish his task. Other days he was a spy or a doctor.

He was a brilliant five year old. He excelled in his kindergarten class. The teacher and her two assistants felt that he should have progressed directly into the first grade. In doing this he would have to, of course, bypass their class and he was such a joy.

Each day, Richie's task after school was to go to the butcher shop. Mr. Harding was a rather jolly man, despite the fact that he ran such a bloody business. He was kind and he was generous. His wife ran the little bake shop next door. In fact, the two shops had at one time been a large business, but they had simply placed a dividing wall between the two. An access archway allowed an easy walk from one to the other, which encouraged sales in both stores.

The Hardings had been blessed with two children, who were now aged twelve and sixteen. The girl helped her mother in the bake shop. The boy was the older and assisted his father. He had plans to eventually take over the business.

Because they owned the building housing the shops, they were able to live upstairs in a rather large apartment. The children each had their own bedroom and there was a guest room. They were established and set for life.

Richie had a different life, it was all that he knew so it was good. His father, Phil, had been a hard worker and loved his family dearly. It was a shock when he had been struck down by the brakeless delivery truck. The court case was still in session, and after almost two years, it still looked no closer to being solved.

In the meantime, he and his mother Amanda were forced to move from their lovely house to a meager one room apartment. Amanda took in seamstress work which she was quite good at. Other jobs were available but then she would have the stress of using limited funds for after school sitters. This was the best option. What she earned was enough to pay the rent, buy fruit, vegetable, milk, porridge and eggs. She saved everything else for emergencies.

Richie took his task seriously. He would go to the shops and collect soup bones and chicken parts that were not items that could be sold. He liked munching on the cooked chicken wings and his mum made delicious soups using the chicken hearts, livers and such or from the bones. Mrs. Harding insisted that he take home the loaf of bread that had browned a little too much. What ever he collected would be on the menu for the next day.

Today was an important day, he had not told his mum that Mr. Harding had asked him the day before, if he could spare a few minutes for a chat today. Richie indeed felt grown up.

There were a few customers in front of the display case, so Richie sat on one of the three chairs. William and his father hustled through those waiting. Finally, William walked to the door, turned the open sign over to read closed and locked the door. He walked back and winked at Richie.

In the other shop, Mrs. Harding did the same and then she and Sarah walked through the archway. Mr. Harding washed his hands and took off his apron and knelt in front of Richie.

"Richie, my boy, we know things have been a little rough on you and your mum. I know you are too young to remember that big house you and your folks lived in or that your mum didn't have to work. So, William here made a suggestion and we all talked about it. How would you like to help out in both shops after school and on Saturday? Now we can't hire you and give you money because it is against the law, but we could give you a whole chicken or chops or a small roast once a week and you can still have the parts and bones. Between the two shops you could be learning a trade, son."

"So, I would come here every day from 4 to 6 and then all day on Saturday and help. I would have a job." He smiled, but in a blink of an eye he frowned. "I would have to ask my mum, but if she says okay, I have a job?"

Mr. Harding stuck out his hand, Richie placed his tiny hand in the bigger hand and they shook. Everyone was smiling.

"How about I give you a hand today," William suggested, "there are three bags instead of two?"
"You are a fine boy, William. No, I take that back, you are a fine young man, son. This was your idea and a fine one at that." Mr. Harding grabbed his son for a hug.

Richie was so excited as he and William walked home. He had forgotten to ask what was in the third bag. Mr. Harding and William had bundled a small chicken and two chops as a goodwill gesture.

When they reached the apartment, William stepped inside to answer any questions Richie's mother might have. He smiled as he watched the boy glow with excitement as he explained.

"Well, son, you realize that next year and for many years after you will have homework to do. And church on Sunday. But if you can promise that those things are important, I will give you my okay. William, you will watch out for my boy, won't you?"

"Yes, I sure will or if he is in the bake shop my sister Sarah will."

"Yeaaaaaa, I got a job." Richie jumped for joy. "Will you tell your dad that she said okay?"

"I sure will, see you tomorrow at four. Thank you."

After William left, his mother reached for the bags on the counter, wondering why there were three. The first contained the soup bones which provided a nourishing broth. The second had the chicken wings and parts. The third was a surprise, a chicken -a whole chicken and two chops.

Tears ran down her face as she read the note.

Richie reported to work every day, he still did excellent in school. After another two years the court case was finally settled. The three rival companies had provided great arguments, but the one company was found guilty of tampering with the brakes and thus caused Phil's death.
With the sizable settlement check Amanda and Richie were able to move. It surprised many that instead of a new house, Amanda chose to purchase a small building not far from the shops. She established her own shop for sewing, hired three workers and she and Richie lived in the two-bedroom apartment over her business.

Eventually William did take over the butcher shop, Sarah married and moved away, so Richie took over the bake shop. The two men worked well as partners.

Over the years, many times Amanda looked fondly at the note she had framed.

'Just paying it forward.' A post script said, 'Thanks for agreeing.'