27.1 square feet. An opportunity for encroaching on the personal space of others and exchanging awkward smiles with fellow occupants. Check your hair in the surrounding mirrors aiming to ease claustrophobia. Watch as the digital numbers descend to the relevant floor at a glacial pace.
The expectations of a ride in a lift. Shoppers pile in. On this occasion though I found myself with only two other companions. Feeling the gaze of the pint sized toddler looking up from her Barbie pink pushchair I couldn't help but return a smile. This understated smile triggered a story that not only stopped me in my tracks but is also a challenging message.
Catching the eye of the woman accompanying Pint Size she proudly stated, 'A year and a half' to which I made the appropriate responding gush women the world over are joined by. 'No, no, a year and a half since I got her' she replied. After a receiving a quizzical expression she went on to tell the heart breaking tale of how Pint Size's real mother had brought her to the woman's house to be babysat and has never been seen since. In the 60 seconds spent in that 27.1 square foot box I learnt that Pint Size's mother had never been traced by the police in the 18 months since she left and that the this woman, the baby sitter had faced reluctance from her own family as she formally adopted Pint Size.
This was not a sob story. In fact as she headed out of the lift, across to the job centre, she proudly stated, 'she has me and I have her'.
As my head spun I contemplated how and when you tell a child that they have been abandoned and whether she will question that her skin is a different colour from her mother and why her brother and sister are old enough to be her parents. But none of this matters now, as this little girl has a mother who loves her and would give anything to share her life with her. A lot can be learned in 60 seconds.
