Flower Child

I’m always watching Lilia, paying attention to what she likes and what she’s good at, trying to imagine her future.  When she was small and enjoyed digging in the dirt, I thought, “Aha!  She can be an archaeologist when she grows up.  She doesn’t have to be able to walk or hear to dig up stuff.”  I pictured her in the desert, cleaning artifacts with a little brush.  When she draws stories-in-pictures, I imagine her as a manga artist.  And when she folds the laundry or drapes herself with fabric remnants, I can envision her designing fashion or working in a clothing store. 

Today, I had another idea.  There was a bouquet of flowers on the chair.  My husband got lots of flowers upon leaving his old job, and since we don’t have enough vases, they’re kind of strewn  around.  While I was upstairs, Lilia grabbed one of the bouquets and cut off the ribbon.  She meticulously divided all of the flowers – the baby’s breath, the roses, the tulips.  Then she crawled over to the shelf and took down my Otani-yaki vase without breaking it.  And then she cut the stems to varying lengths and rearranged the flowers in the vase.  Her result was very pleasing.  Jio said, “She can work in a flower shop.”  “Yeah, maybe.  Or she can be a master of ikebana,” I replied.

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