I met this young lady at an art workshop. While we were all waiting for it to begin, I heard a soft voice from behind me. “Hey sis, do you want to draw on your shoebox? I have lots of pencils”.
I turned around and saw her sitting in a corner, pencil in hand, completely focused on sketching on a black shoebox. She didn’t even look up. For a second, I wondered if she was talking to me. I mumbled, “Mmm… yeah”. I wasn’t sure what to draw anyway, so I figured I’d just sit down and add a few random lines to my shoebox.
As I sat down next to her and picked up a blue pencilI feeling a little nervous. I quickly sketched a few lines and dots on my shoebox, pretending I had a plan. She glanced and said, “Alright, I’m going to draw a flower”. I smiled to myself and thought “Let follow her interaction”.
Without skipping a beat, she started giving me instructions while working on her own shoebox: “Draw a flower here… like this… then color it like this…”. I just sat there, watching her, lost in her world of drawing, responding with a quiet“Mmm, okay…”
We carried on like that for almost 5 minutes, chatting and drawing side by side, until the workshop finally began.
Her name is Mật Ong, which means Honey. She was about 7 years old, with big black eyes that were hidden behind her bangs. At first, she seemed quiet, but once I got close enough, she would open up and start telling me all about the dogs and cats that lived in her dad’s backyard.
She was also into climbing. Once, she showed me her secret spot near the studio – a scrapyard where she practiced every weekend. It was her own little hidden world, and she was so excited to share it with me.
In that moment, I realized I wasn’t just visiting her world. She was inviting me into it. I realized that if we slow down and stay present with children, they naturally lead us into the way they see things.
Mật Ong surprised me with her sense of wonder and creativity, and with how easily she found new perspectives in the most ordinary places. By the end of the day, I walked away feeling a little more open to the small, hidden joys around me.