A group of little girls stand on the other side of the river. They are around 5 to 7 years old. There are four of them, and they’re waiting for me. They run over from the other side of the canal: first to the bridge, then across it. They’re looking at me, giggling, shyly glancing away, then looking back again. They’re waiting. Waiting for me. Curious about ME. They spotted me from afar as I walked along the riverbank.

This is their home: makeshift huts built along both sides of the river. They cook in the street – their kitchen is nothing more than an open flame: the end of a large log burns beneath a cauldron, the rest of the wood sticking far out into the road. No cars drive here; maybe a few residents can afford an old motorbike.

The little girls grow more excited as I approach. When I reach them, they jump around me, and with childlike joy and smiles they show and ask for the one thing they want in that moment: a high five. From ME. Because they welcome ME, greet ME and are happy to see ME. I truly feel special. They want to see ME. Just spend a few moments with ME. Touch me. Greet me. They ask for nothing else: it doesn’t even cross their minds! They’re so sincere. All they want is a little attention, a bit of care. The joy of being together.

When I move on and glance back after a few steps they’ve already run back across the bridge. I’m filled with happiness, knowing your presence brightened their day. They’ve already disappeared into the maze of huts on the far side. But wait: why do I feel this happiness? Truly?

It’s the childlike lightness, freedom, and selflessness that I’ve just experienced. A bath of joy! A mutual, blissful moment where I and the children simply rejoiced in each other. What a lesson in humility this is!