Being selfless is not easy

The little girl looked to be about two. She was grimy but had little anklets around her feet. She was slightly rotund and smiling with two little pigtails sticking out at angles on either side of her head.

Two older children, a boy and a girl stood near her and watched that she didn’t stray too far from their plastic tent and on to the busy road.

My car had just stopped at the signal and I watched them through the window. It was a blisteringly hot day and the children were playing near a fruit shop. Someone must have given them the grapes or else they had begged it off the shopkeeper. The elder girl held the handful of grapes carefully after giving the boy some.

The little one could not be trusted with so great a treasure for what did she know of the value of the rare treat?

The three of them sat under a corner of the shop awning smiling and laughing at each other. They shared their small joy among themselves and looked for the entire world like they were the luckiest kids alive. The little one would hold her chubby hand out for a grape. The elder girl would carefully place it in her palm and she would gleefully put it in her mouth and chomp on it with a look of utter satisfaction. Then she would hold her hand out again.

The elder child would lovingly place another grape in her small hand. She was perhaps six years old and would’ve loved to eat a few more herself but she generously handed out every single one of her grapes to the toddler. With such love did she feed the child that my throat closed up for a moment wondering at their happiness and the largeness of that young heart. I would’ve expected the three to fight over the fruit like I see the kids around me fight for the first piece of pizza or the coveted cartoon character’s face-part of the cake in a birthday party. I would’ve thought that there would only be survival of the fittest when poverty was a daily curse. Sharing has nothing to do with whether you have much or little — it only has to do with love and a generous heart.

Of course the car moved on and the scene vanished. I kept looking back for more glimpses of the kids. The amount of food my children disdain or take for granted was an obvious source for comparison but the more thought-provoking aspect of the whole scene for me was the way the children shared the tiny bit they had. Indeed they lavished it on the younger one who hadn’t yet learnt to control her desire for a simple treat.

In this country where people who are rich beyond belief squabble over who gets the biggest share in their next corrupt venture and black money squirreled away in Swiss banks is larger than the country’s GDP, to see a simple scene of selflessness is like an unexpected blessing.