When I was pregnant, I considered my state only as a ‘condition’—one that made me hungry and uncomfortable. I did everything to prepare for the arrival of my baby, but did not try to imagine what the person growing inside of me would become. I had one fleeting vision, though: Someday I would take her to see the Sistine Chapel and she would be as awestruck as me. I wanted her to be a good traveller. Ruby* is now five and we are yet to make that trip, but she shares my sense of awe.
One day as we were walking back home from school, she told me about an episode of The Octonauts. “They were in the Arctic and saw the Northern Lights. Do you know what that is?” She continued, “I saw it and I felt amazed. I would like to see it for real. Can we go there?”
I had always wanted to see the Northern Lights too but had never shared that with her. Do you pass on your dreams to your children? I wondered. But what struck me most was her use of the word ‘amazed’.
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