The little girl, Mom, was writing on the paper
And her abrupt little hand was in full swing,
But all were indifferent to her effort
Thinking it as a vain sport.
Long time I was busy in my work
And I did not get a chance to reach her lark,
As soon as I got it,
I went running to that site;
With a curious mind when I scrutinized the paper,
I became spellbound in wonder;
As I understood the girl had written
The most important thing on the paper
Like a woman of letters.
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