"Look I made this bracelet out of flowers for you."
She pushed it away. She wouldn't even look at the volunteer.
"Flower. ดอกไม้," she said.
No response. Only staring at the ground.
"She's hill-tribe." I stumbled. "I don't think she even speaks Thai."
She took the string of flowers and threw it back into the bush from whence it came.
But the woman didn't give up.
She gave the flowers back to her. She showed her how to make it. She sat by her on the swing. She touched her.
On on-looked the situation and decided I had no idea what the little one must be thinking. Maybe six years old or so. Left here. Can't understand.
I came back two minutes later.
"Put on your sunglasses and do something crazy!"
The little one's smile was radiant.
Transformed. In just minutes.
To the joy of all joys: the human smile.
It makes everything I do worth it.
I bet to you that sounds trite. Trite: definition: "overused and consequently of little import; lacking originality or freshness."
But when words mean nothing, desires and actions are reduced to outcomes of happiness.
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