Every morning, when I'm dropping Mia off at school, there are a host of construction workers, permanent staff members and guards present during our short walk from the front gate to the door of her school.
Some mornings, I'm already weary from the morning's events, whether it be arguing kids on the drive in, dogs that wouldn't cooperate or stressing out over a lost library book that I spent too much time looking for.
Some mornings, I'm in good spirits, but in a rush to get the morning's jam packed schedule under way.
I talk often to Mia about saying 'hello' to people that she meets. I remind her that it is good to introduce yourself to others, because you are never sure when that someone may need a friend.
Most mornings though, I forget that little eyes are watching and little ears are listening.
About a month ago, on a particularly frazzled and harried morning, we walked past the man who sweeps the grounds near school.
Every morning he is there. Every morning, without glancing up to look me in the eyes, mutters a quiet but strong "Good morning, ma'am" ... then grins to Mia and says "Good morning, baby."
Every morning.
Most mornings, I respond with a quick "good morning" but we continue to quickly walk past him.
This particular morning though, Mia stopped me from continuing to pass him by and said ::
Mama, why does he call me baby?
I answered her that loads of people in Delhi call her baby, because she's my itsy-bitsy and because she's sweet. I reassured her that he didn't mean anything bad by it, and that he probably thought she was a good girl.
I tugged on her hand and asked her to please keep walking.
She resisted though and asked ::
Mama, but why won't he call me Mia? And, what is HIS name? He always says hello to you, but you don't ask his name?
* * *
I paused, smiled to myself and responded ::
You introduce yourself to him ... tell him your name, and then ask what his name is!
Soon enough, they had performed the pleasantries. The smile on his face when we stopped to ask his name was huge and rewarding.
* * *
The following morning, Mia skipped into school like she typically does.
Everything was the same ... I was mentally clicking through my to-do list, she was carrying her backpack and wearing her sunglasses.
One new moment though was different ::
Good morning Mia ... he said.
Good morning Ram!
