A little girl, about 4-5 years old was standing a few paces in front of me. Her beautiful long blonde hair was blown by a gust of wind, sprawling over her face. She dipped her small hand into the pocket of her denim skirt, and out came a pink, round, rubberized ribbon. She started to gather her hair, and clasped them with her tiny fingers. Holding the ribbon with her other hand, she started to slip it, and tied it in her hair, several times, to tighten. Not completely satisfied with the result, she removed the ribbon off her hair, and started the task again, and again, and again.
I could not keep track how many times she tried the task, until finally, her hair was tied in a beautiful bouncy pony tail. I could not see her face, but I surely could imagine a smile of satisfaction and a feeling of pride in her heart.
-Jan.10, 2006-
Wings Of A Nightingale 
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