A patch of grass always interests her.
She’d slow down her steps, shorten her stride, her eyes searching, hoping to catch the ‘elusive’ clusters of touch-me-nots.
“Wait mom.” She’d say.
If timing permits, and we are not rushing to anywhere in particular, we’d stop and spend a minute or so, searching together. Eyes skimming through the sea of green, for small pink flowers and palm-like grasses.
She would be delighted if we spotted some. She'd touch them gently with her fingertips and watch them close shyly up, or sweep her feet dramatically over them in wide arcs. It really depended on her mood.
And we’d be squatting there side by side. Mother and Daughter sharing a moment, admiring the slow closing of the leaves and the wonders of nature.
Other times, we would be looking out for the dandelion-looking weeds. The ones with the small balls of puffy white heads. She would pick those gently and with care, because using brute strength would only shake the fluffy bits off. Then with a deep breadth, she would huff away at the little feathery seeds and watch them float away in the wind.
My girl is a tender heart and appreciates the little things in life. The small, simple gestures that big Brother is often apt to overlook and miss out on.
She enjoys the occasional little notes I slip into her pencil case, and she’s more thankful and appreciative of the little gifts I randomly buy for her. Every single stuffed toy that she was given or bought, sits in one big happy crowd at the head of her bed. She even has ready names for the mynahs that she spots off the road (usually Meena and Mona), and greets every spotted-neck dove she sees in our estate as ‘Tweet-Tweet’. (We had previously rescued and nurtured a baby dove for a week then before releasing it back to the wild. And since then, every such dove would be addressed and greeted by her.)
Like all girls (and her mom), she gravitates towards aesthetically pleasing sights and appreciates the beauty of a sunset-hued sky or the magnificence of picturesque clouds. Wild flowers that grow around are often picked off and presented to me in an array of a colourful bouquet.
For all the sweet and thoughtful nature that she is, I am aware that she will not forever remain this tender-hearted, innocent baby girl of mine. For now, a big part of her influence comes from me. But as the years pass and as she blossoms in her own time, her circle of friends will expand. And so will her sources of influence. Even then, I hope that the eyes of her heart and soul continue to seek and find joy in the little things in life.
Because for wonderfully big things to happen, we must first start with the little ones.
