The sun in her smile.

It's not your money or your charity the less privileged want,lest I call them that-it's your time and love.

Your smile and your warmth,your questions and your kisses.

A little girl taught me,taught me when I felt I was beyond being taught.

Reminded me what it means to be human,the simple joy of sharing the universe a constant flash across her face,small acts of kindness the catalyst to a better world.

She came as wee as they come,Mary,she called herself-adorned by a pastel pink dress and her best smile,he touched my nose and said my name for the first time,repeating it only with what I would call the recognition that registers as fondness.Like all little girls,she liked to be twirled around and spun,lived for ice-cream,loved to imitate those around and awaited for a ball for her to play with.As she asked for my dupatta,draping it around herself like a cape,I silently swore how her smile could be the superpower for so many people.

When she ran,the breeze ran with her,not against,worries too far away to touch her-love was all she knew,love was the only spirit to touch her.Her giggles resonating through.

She,the little one,that reminded me that benevolence was not restricted to words,it did not require sentences,but mere laughter and actions,the silence of crowds died down,time well spent.

She reminded me of how I found solace in the smell of frothy ice-tea on a rainy afternoon,sitting on a swingset and turning my tongue blue from all the ice lolly slurping and the affectionate hair-ruffling my dad pursued as I drifted off to sleep.The little things that always hold the most power in our hearts,and the most influence in our lives.

Her old brother,looked on dotingly,he was a slightly older reflection of what Mary reminded me of.

And as she kissed my cheek goodbye,I knew I had found an answer I din't know I was even looking out for.