Georgina.

kids-love-ouidad

 

Looking in the rear view mirror I could see her scribbling away, scribbles, shapes, stick men, stick cats, dogs, all sketched on small yellow sticky note squares. Some were now stuck to the door, others at odd angles on the window and, no doubt, many stuck to the back of my driver’s seat.

It was the quietest Georgina, my four year old daughter, had been all day. I kept glancing back, often taking my eyes from the road longer than I should, longer than was truly safe. But Georgina mesmerised me. The way her curly golden hair framed the pale unblemished skin of her face, the sparkle of her blue eyes and the way she bit down on her bottom corner of her lip as she concentrated on drawing with the brightly coloured felt tip pens on those little yellow pieces of paper.

I know, as her father I am somewhat prejudiced in saying she was the most beautiful child in the world; but that is my right, my unquestionable belief and my own undeniable truth. Yet, still I challenge anyone to declare Georgina is anything but stunningly gorgeous.
The radio was turned down low, the music nothing more than a gentle tempo, a harmonious accompaniment to the sound of the tyres rumbling over the tarmac.

After some time I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable, neither Georgina nor I had uttered a word for the last ten or eleven miles. I think it is an adult thing, a sense of duty, a sense of being expected, obligated, to do something more than just sit in silence when you are charged with the care of a child.

So I spoke, hoping to engage Georgina in some form of conversation.
She was drawing with a day-glow pink pen when I asked “Do you like pink?”

“Yes” she replied, not looking away from her work.

“Is that your favourite colour?”

Georgina said “Yes. They are all my favourite colours. I like all the colours”.

“And what are you drawing?”

“A cow”

“What is your favourite animal?” I asked.

“I love all the animals”.

I was bemused, continuing I asked her “Which day do you like best?”
Georgina stopped colouring and lifted her head, her clear blue eyes looking directly at me. “I love every day Daddy, don’t you?” She smiled and settled back to her drawings.

I let her be, left her to sketch uninterrupted.

A large smile spread across my face as it dawned upon me, I had just been taught an amazing lesson by the innocence of a young child.

© Paul White 2015


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