When the girls came to celebrate my new appartment last year, Rice was not yet able to speak. I love this picture I took then, at a hot late august day in 2008, Rice playing with my mess among the boxes.
Today I dressed a breakfast-picnic table in the garden for us.
It still surprises me to see my excitement when they arrive to my home. Rice was looking so sweet with her curly poney tails. She was as exciteted as I am. Until.. she cut her little finger with my special kids cuttlery's bunny knife.
Seing the blood she cried.. cried.. cried..
She was consolated that it will be ok and she will not feel the hurt soon.
She kept on crying saying it was not ok, not yet
It was a upset time for her. So she didn't allow me for a photo. But I can tell about her beutifully brushed hair, her cheeks innounded with tears, her eyes downwards and contracted by the plain truth of the pain, head backwards busy producing tears.
As she said " it is not ok, not yet", I saw some "me" in her.
So, I am sending a photo of her and her beloved little finger from the day of their first visit to my home.
I find there, this "some me" as well as the not so grown-up Rice then
And her words defying the consolation, her way to live the pain made me so close to her.
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