Pulling Pink Petal | ant in moss city
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120421-132555 Dei.T054 pink petal antics [ssr]
7 January 2012
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Doubts doubts...
Racked by question marks
with jagged points
that jar my being
and jumble my mind
my brain a barrage
of conflicting tides
colliding waves crashing
shattering surf
...in a million droplets
Pearls pearls...
Remain unseen
unfound in the frenzy
of foam and froth
and left behind
lustrous luminescence
of scattered castaways
camouflaged spheres
of influence lost
...in a billion droplets
❦
I went to a Birthday party today, celebrating a little girl's fourth year. I was the only adult there without children ~ and the only adult who gets given a party bag at the end, along with the kiddies. My friend always does this for me and I love her for it; I don't actually eat the sweets (I give them to my youngest bestest friend) but I do love receiving that party bag!
Sitting at the edge of the stage in the hall where the party was being held, behind the entertainer, I was taking photos of the children as they fanned out in front of her, avidly following her cheery instructions, playing games. As I peered down the lens, lost in my world, I felt little taps on my shoulders and without looking back knew it was the toddler who had come over to me earlier. His mother, who was sitting to my left, apologized and I laughed it off explaining we were already acquainted and that it didn't bother me at all, "What a friendly character!" She agreed, elaborating on how outgoing he was, the opposite of his elder brother. She gestured at where he stood to my right, leaning close within his Granny's arms, clasping his green ballon; all the children had one. "Look at him, he doesn't even want to join in the games, he's the only one not playing," she said, "He is so shy and timid."
I carried on snapping as I enjoyed the children's antics and finally it was time for them to collect their treats: brightly colored pencils topped with erasers, each one different. The boy's mother and grandmother encouraged him to join the queue and get his pencil but he refused. His grandmother walked with him hand in hand towards the long line but again, he balked and turned back, slinking back to stand at the edge of the stage.
"Don't you want a pencil?" they urged him, to which he shook his head with a frown.
I can remember what it was like to feel shy and afraid, even as a young child. As I sat on the low platform we were eye to eye, I looked across at him and asked, "Would you get a pencil for me?" He looked back at me curiously.
"I'm too big to queue up," I explained, "They won't let me. But I really fancy one of those pencils."
"Would you go and get a pencil for her?" asked the boy's mother. The boy considered this. "Do you really want a pencil?!" the grandmother questioned me.
"Of course I do!" I exclaimed, "I love drawing and one of those pencils would be great for that." I turned to the boy with a smile, "Would you get one for me?"
He stared at me, nodded solemnly and took his grandmother's hand. Together they walked to the end of the line, which was very short now, and queued briefly before it was his turn to step forward to select a pencil from the tray.
When they returned, the Granny told me that the boy liked the pencil and wanted to keep it to draw himself, would that be alright? "Of course," I said, "I can find another pencil. That one you have is really nice!" It had a cute furry animal on top. The boy smiled at me.
"Wow, he is so special," I addressed his mother, "He wasn't willing to go go up there for himself but he did it for someone else. Now that is really special."
I turned to the boy, "May I take a photo of you?"
He smiled and gave me his assent.
*♡*
