Here again with my story starting from this April month.
First of all thank you so much to my senior lecturer, sifu, mentor, boss or whoever he is...awwuuu..."Mr Mus". He likes wolf:P Thanks for your encouragement and support for making my dream come true. Keep a good work sir!
Enjoy reading it.
It was another sunrise, another day for this family that lives on the slope of a hill overlooking the woods, the small village and the rest of the world. Behind the house is a stream of mountain-cool water. This stream brings the water in a swift flow through the woods and slowly winding its way on the low-land to the village not too far away, serving the animals and the villagers.
As always, it was a cold morning. The mist that hangs around the house sometimes moves in a swirl brought about by a breeze of cool air from the mountain top.
The silence of the morning was broken by the opening of a window and, a front door as well. Soon a little, well not quite little, girl stepped out of the house.
She took a step out of the house, gave herself a good stretch and a yawn and gave the world the sweetest smile, together with her dimple on her left cheek. She was still dressed in her sleeping clothes (hardly pajamas), a knee-length trousers and a t-shirt in a red hooded sweater.
She stepped out to the garden, pulled the hood over her head, stood still, closed her eyes and still smiling, and took a few deep breath of the cool fresh air. This had been her morning rites as far back as she could remember.
Next, she walked to a corner of the garden, took a broom and started sweeping the fallen leaves strewn about in the garden. This is another ritual which she goes through every day. There was a time, not too long ago when her Grand-dad taught her how to use the broom and taught her the particular way that he wanted the garden swept. It was such heavy work then, but now, it is just another chore to her.
While sweeping, her mind was already working on what to do for the rest of the day, but a little sparrow interrupted her thoughts. The little bird came hopping to her as close as it dared.
The girl dropped the broom and squatted while looking at the bird.
“Hello little bird and how are we today?”
Anyone watching the scene could have sworn that the two understood each other because in a strange way, the bird was chirping away as if in conversation.
So this scene repeats itself every morning. It might be a bird, or the leaves, or a butterfly or the grass that would be her talking friend.
Lessie was only twelve, but she could pass off as a fifteen year old in a conversation if she wanted to. For her age she was a tall girl of 154cm and of about 45 kg. The only sign to give a hint of her actual age was her looks.
Her fair skin reflected her youth very well. In her right mood, especially when she was happy, she would become that little baby in the pram all over again and every movement of her fingers to show gestures would always bring smiles to those in front of her. Her bright alert eyes had always been observant and sharp, , beyond the normal sight, fortunately or unfortunately for her.
Hers was a small family with just an elder sister, parents and grand-parents who lived not-too-far away. In her family, there were times when serious arguments would take place, well, maybe a little too often.
This was made worse with the interference from her relatives in family matters.
There were just too much anger, stubbornness and stress among the adults - too much adult stuff that her poor innocent mind could not understand!
She was just too young to understand the why’s and how’s so she usually stays out of it. Her sister too preferred to stay out of the chaotic situation – but she was older than Lessie and somehow the gap in their age also showed in their interest and activities.
Thus Lessie’s loneliness knew no bound!
Poor Lessie! The woods would always be her playground and the insects, animals and even the grass and plants would be her friends, other than a boy called Robin from the neighbourhood.
So in her own way, her mind and childhood world was more about the beauty of nature, the peaceful existence of the wood and the feeling of love for God’s creation.
Without giving it much thought, she realized that sometimes she could actually communicate with the dogs, cats and whatever other insects and animals that she chose to ‘talk’ to, as if they understood the interaction between them.
Although it was beyond her understanding, she took it for granted that it is quite normal to understand God’s creatures’ ‘language’.