She found him huddled under the rickety wooden platform, on which she was performing. After the performance as she was cleaning the stage, she bent down to pick up her silver anklet which had come loose, she saw him. He was looking at her in fear and hunger from his sleepy eyes. The woman cajoled him to come out and picked him up to realise he was running a mild temperature.

The gypsy woman gave him, her shawl and went inside her tent to look around for something to give to the boy. She spotted her favourite red china mug and poured some chocolate in it. She added a pinch of cinammon and salt. For good measure she added a dash of rum from a bottle. She then whipped some cream to the mix and topped it up with hot milk. As she was taking it for the boy, she remembered the bag of marshmallows that lay hidden under her soiled pillow. She took two out and put it in the hot concoction and gave it to the boy.

It was the most delicious drink, the boy had ever had. He almost forgot that he was separated from his step brothers, while playing hide-n-seek. He had crawled under the rickety wooden platform, when his turn came to hide. As the boy sipped some of the drink, the woman went looking around the empty grounds, half hoping to meet the guardians of the child. She was absorbed with the child’s innocence and secretly wished that the boy never leaves him.

She knew she had to be patient as it was only six more days that the caravan had pitched their tents here. She hoped no one came to claim him.

On the seventh day, she tattooed the tribes name on his arm and called him as her own. The boy, well he traded his other life for an endless supply of hot chocolate.