The women would come to fill their jars in the pond, and your
huge black shadow would wriggle on the water like sleep
struggling to wake up.

Sunlight danced on the ripples like restless tiny shuttles
weaving golden tapestry.

Two ducks swam by the weedy margin above their shadows, and the
child would sit still and think.

He longed to be the wind and blow through your rustling branches,
to be your shadow and lengthen with the day on the water, to be a
bird and perch on your top-most twig, and to float like those
ducks among the weeds and shadows.




[Illustration: From a drawing by Surendranath Ganguli--see
cbene.jpg]


BENEDICTION


Bless this little heart, this white soul that has won the kiss of
heaven for our earth.

He loves the light of the sun, he loves the sight of his mother's
face.