A Sapota and a Calf!

We waited for this brown, bouncy, young calf every single day.

As the calf came running towards us, my daughter would shout with glee, and be ready with the fruits that she had picked up from the garden floor.

Some time earlier when we noticed this calf for the first time I suggested to my daughter that we pick up a few half ripe, half nibbled Sapotas probably dropped by squirrels and feed to the calf. She was afraid at first, but the calf was quite very young, and had such wonderful eyes..that she just fell in love with it.
And then we did the same the following day. Very soon this had become a routine, and as the calf approached our home, it would come running to us, and eat the sapotas. If not sapotas, we fed the calf other fruits..

We tried feeding the calf unripe sapotas, and she would spit them out. This caused great amusement to my daugther and so we fed the calf one or two unripe ones and watched it try to chew it and spit it.. and savor the ripe ones! It probably didnt have strong teeth yet, or knew there were better ones coming. After a few months it was time for a new routine.. The calf stopped visiting and we picked up fruits from the garden and left it near the gate for any stray cow to savor..

One day when it was time for a bed time story.. my daughter mentioned that she loved feeding the calf and wondered why it had stopped coming down our street. I included this as part of my story that night and we now had a new routine. The calf was now a deer or a bunny rabbit eating fruits from the forest floor.

We enjoyed every moment of the story telling until both of us dozed of happily dreaming of our wonderful forest friends.

This blog is a solemn reminder to me of those days that we shared in fear and uncertainity. She had faint memories of a different past, but didnt know how to question me. I had made choices that she had to live with.

The stories that I told her soothed her, and we were trying to convey our thoughts in a different form. She was looking for comfort and solace; And I was offering a secure cocoon for her to grow.

For almost three years the story telling continued, it was the same story..but told differently every time to suit the mood of the day. There were days when the baby deer had very little to eat ; some days it ate so much that it couldnt move.. We laughed and cried; and hugged; and held on to each other.