My Chinese Factory Worker

I turn the box over. There it is.

"Made in China" says the tag on the back.

Heavy sigh. "Of course," I think to myself.

"Another worthless piece of junk."

Suddenly my thoughts are transported

To a factory in China,

Where I secretly observe the worker as she

Speedily but carefully places the sticker.

What are her thoughts as she works?

Is she imagining me, wondering

"What type of person is she?"

"Where will she place this in her home?"

Or does her mind wander, anticipating

The visit from her mother-in-law

Who will obsess on her desire

For a grandchild?

Does she create scenarios about me,

How silly and stupid I am,

Believing that buying this useless,

Badly made picture frame

Will bring me happiness;

Will make my life complete?

Or is she struggling,

Trying not to worry about

Her ailing husband

Home alone,

While she toils all day

To buy a bowl of rice?

Is she thinking of me, hoping that

I will comprehend the value of this

Imperfectly made cell phone; will I

Understand that the value is in the connection?

Naida Lavon

2006