by Rohini Chowdhury

"I'm five today," says Vidisha,
"And very grown up too.
Tomorrow is my party,
Would you like to come? I have a sparkly hairband to wear,
And sparkly sandals too!"

I look down at the solemn face,
Black curls unruly in the wind.
I want to smile, but dare not.
I solemnly accept.
"Now what shall I get you for a present?
A Barbie shall it be?"

Vidisha looks at me, then shakes her head.
"No thank you," she politely declines.
"I think I'd like a scarf. A pink one, please,
That blows in the wind, and can be my fairy wings."
"A scarf it is," I promise. And rush away
To find a suitably sparkly party dress to wear.

The party day dawns bright and clear.
One by one the guests arrive,
Little girls in pink and white,
With sparkles in their hair.

Vidisha smiles and smiles and smiles,
And chuckles happily.
Jessie's come, and Simran too,
Phoebe and Kiera
Maisie and Sarah
Ashwini, Vipasha, but not Rebecca!
"Rebecca isn't feeling too well,
She sends her love," says Mamma.
Vidisha feels sorry for her friend,
"She'll miss the party cake!" she says.

The party's over and all is quiet,
The little girls have all gone home.
A pile of presents lies on the playroom floor,
Waiting for my five-year old.
But Vidisha is fast asleep,
Black curls, princess hat,
Pink fairy wings and all.
Turning five is tiring work,
With growing up to do!