Published: 2025-09-22

Pedro was the only kid in school who didn’t own a Tamagotchi. The constant beeping during class would drive teachers crazy, and kids would gather in the playground to talk about Tamagotchi during recess. Pedro yearned to be part of the club, to make teachers mad with the beeping of his own Tamagotchi, to discuss about them during recess, to belong. But Pedro wasn’t like the other kids; his hair was curlier, his skin was darker, and his clothes were more ragged than the rest of the kids. Owning a toy would probably change little, and yet, Pedro would sell his own soul for it.

His parents came from a foreign land; they didn’t speak the language nor understand the customs of this new place. They worked two jobs to put food on the table and pay for Pedro’s education. They barely received primary instruction; being able to work in the fields was more important than memorizing the multiplication tables, but they wouldn’t allow their kid to live the same life.

Asking his parents to spend $50 on a toy was a selfish act; Pedro knew they couldn’t afford it even if they wanted to. They were already giving their all to put food on the table. Despite knowing this, Pedro asked himself constantly, “Why are my clothes so old when everyone else’s are new and shiny?”, “Why are my shoes discolored and torn when everyone else’s are well-cared-for?” Being a kid is hard enough, being different is unfair.

At dinner, Pedro found the courage to ask his parents. Hoping for the best. He explained how great this toy was and how everyone at school had one. His parents listened attentively, trying to make sense of what their son was telling them; they could not speak the language of this land, the language of their own son, and Pedro could not speak the language of his parents except for a couple of hours here and there. His parents looked at him with confusion, and Pedro knew he wasn’t being understood. He got up from the table and ran upstairs. Moments later, he had returned with a flyer.

“This is what I’m talking about, Mom. I want one of these.”

His mother took the flyer and examined it; she didn’t understand all the words written in it, but two things she understood: 1) whatever it was, it was called a Tamagotchi, and 2) it cost $50. She looked at Pedro in the eye and handed him the flyer while saying something. Pedro didn’t fully understand what she said, but one word happened to be the same in both languages: no. That he understood. That night, he ran to his room and cried himself to sleep.

The next morning, his mother left early for work as she usually did. Pedro had breakfast, a peanut butter and blueberry jelly sandwich, and a glass of milk, and then left for school. With the same raggedy clothes and torn shoes, nothing awaited him but the same indifference from the other kids. At that moment, Pedro wished he had never been born. But wishes wouldn’t change anything. He was born, and this was his life, whether he wanted it or not.

The first half of the day went quickly, and Pedro was the first one to the schoolyard during recess. He held a baseball card in his hand, as he usually did; it was a gift from his mother, who grew up watching baseball with his father back in the motherland, and loved baseball more than anything. She wished to share her love for the game with Pedro the same way his father shared it with her. But Pedro wasn’t one for sports.

As he sat on the floor, looking at the card, a kid stood behind him, peeking over his shoulder.

“Wow, is that an original Luis Rodríguez baseball card?” Asked the kid.

Pedro turned his head. The kid behind him was one of his classmates. They have been going to the same class for years, but never spoke before. Pedro was in awe.

“Y—Yes. That’s Luis Rodríguez. My mother gave it to me. Do you like baseball?”
“Everyone likes baseball!”

Pedro was bewildered; he thought baseball was only a big deal in his mother’s country; it couldn’t be a thing here, people had radio, television, computers, cellphones, and all kinds of electronics. They wouldn’t care for men in tight pants hitting a ball with a stick. But apparently they did.

A crowd was starting to form; everyone wanted to see the kid with the rare baseball card.

“You’re very lucky to have that card. My Dad collects them, and even he doesn’t have this one.” Said the kid.

Pedro looked at the card for what it was to him: a piece of cardboard, and said to the kid, “Here, you can have it.”

“Really? I can have it?”

Pedro nodded while extending his hand to the kid. The kid took the card and hugged him. A friendship was born in that moment.

Other kids couldn’t believe how easily he parted with such a rare card. “How could you give it away? I would have given you 50 cents for it.” Said one kid. “50 cents? I would have given you $1!”

In that moment, Pedro had an idea: if he could get more baseball cards, sell them in the schoolyard, and save for a Tamagotchi. The problem was that he owned no more cards, but his mother had a whole stack. She wouldn’t give him any if she knew he would sell them, but maybe he could take some of them, and she wouldn’t notice.

By the way, they didn’t know it at the time since they were kids, but that Luis Rodríguez card fetched over $500.

Pedro took some cards and sold them in the schoolyard. They sold as hotcakes, thus he did the same the day after and the day after. In one week, he saved enough to buy his own Tamagotchi. He achieved his dream.

He took the Tamagotchi out of its packet and turned it on. A small blob made out of pixels greeted him. Pedro smiled, and then fainted.

THE END.