Precious, little one


It’s a funny thing, nearly every afternoon, when I try to get my little girl to settle down for a nap, the anticipation of a successful result and the funny exhaustion of trying to ‘seem’ nonchalant to her, does away eventually with my own ability to wind down for a little rest myself.

But on days like yesterday, when I am not distracted by unfinished chores or pressing editorial work, I get to marvel at the absolute beauty of watching a little person asleep.

At one point, I was especially drawn to her sleeping form because she was evidently watching a dream. Her arms twitched, her heavy eyelids darted about and her small perfect mouth mumbled something in a sweet, low, monotone. I lay down and put my head close to her, trying to make out what she was saying while watching her face closely, and I remember wondering while watching her like this, as though for the first time, who was this marvellous little creature??

A little later, the dream was over nearly as quickly as it had begun. She smiled as though in satisfaction, stretched, turned around, sprawled her arms and legs across the width of the bed, patted my hand and fell into sound, dreamless sleep.

Against the backdrop of the rush that mornings spent in getting ready for school have become, and the sparring that we as mother-daughter engage in about nearly everything, much too frequently nowadays, moments like these lift me up from the daily grind and remind me of how touching, humbling and elevating it is to have a chance at all at being a parent and being witness to a little life in all its moods and hues.

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