Once there was a little girl. She was happy, dancing in gay abandon under the blue sky. She was passing through a narrow stretch of lane surrounded by fields on both sides. She sang as she watched the little leaves of mustard fluttering in the wind producing a wooshing sound, along with the hem of her frock. She touched the little leaves with her hands, and their hearts were touched. The leaves held her hand and returned the subtle greetings. The joy erupted. Her day was made.