A day in the life of Gemma-Rose.
Gemma-Rose runs up to me and throws her arms around my waist.
“I love you,” she says, and grins her widest grin. I laugh and hug her back. There’s something so attractive about that grin. It’s so whole hearted and joy-filled. Plus the two missing teeth are so cute. How could you not want to hug someone that sweet?
We all scoot round the lake on our scooters. Gemma-Rose lags behind at the end of the line. Even though she’s only seven, she longs to do all the things that we older girls do. Her little legs pump hard, propelling her along faster. Somehow she manages to keep up. Of course, this will never do, and we send her to the head of the column. Now her wide smile appears again as we all follow at her pace. She’s one of the big girls now.
The air is filled with the smell of baking. Who’s in the kitchen, hidden beneath the bench? It’s Gemma-Rose, baking a delicious cake.
“Do you need some help?” I ask her.
“No thanks. I can do it,” she says proudly. “Look, I can even crack the eggs.”
Gemma-Rose sits in an armchair, a cat draped over her lap. Another one sprawls next to her, taking up most of the chair. She’s being pushed off the edge, but she doesn’t mind. Her big, blue eyes glow as she strokes them.
“I love cats,” she says. “But they don’t usually want to sit with me.”
It’s a cold winter evening, and we’re sitting in the family room watching a movie.
“Do you want to share my blanket?” she asks Mum.
“But it’s your blanket,” Mum protests.
“Oh, I don’t mind.” And she throws the blanket over Mum’s lap, cuddling up to her like a large, warm, cat.
It’s bed time. Gemma-Rose is lying in bed, waiting for Mum to come and turn out the light. The door swings open. Mum comes in. As she bends down to kiss Gemma-Rose goodnight, she throws her arms around Mum’s neck.
“I love you,” she whispers in Mum’s ear.
“I love you too,” Mum whispers back. “Goodnight Gemma-Rose.” And she turns out the light.