By the time I left the building she was already ensconced in the book corner. Through the window I could see her sitting next to her favorite teacher on the floor cushions beside the small bookcase. She really loves her books, the student teacher said to me the other day. It is so wonderful that she likes to sit and read, her favorite teacher told me. We always talk about whose turn it is to sit and read books with her.
She crouches down beside the vending machine to peak into the coin return. She sticks her fingers inside looking for any stray "monies" that she could use to purchase the bag of pretzels she has been craving. The one that mom doesn't have any change to buy. Unsuccessful, she stand up and tries her luck with the flap. She sticks her hand inside on the off chance that someone has forgotten their own purchase there. She finds nothing. She runs back towards me through the snack room crowded with kids enjoying their field trip to the Museum.
At the small picnic table in the park, she licks her yellow banana-flavoured Popsicle. Across the table from her the boy enjoys his own Popsicle, his first. They take turns passing the slowly shrinking Popsicles across the table. As one hand reaches out, the other hand gives over. Every so often they will turn to me and hold out their Popsicles for me to lick. The afternoon December sun is warm as it shines down on us.