His little sister

They were a young family of four,
And like us they were guests at Hotel Prospect Panchgani, where we had been, to our good fortune, many times before.
They were seated at a table adjacent to ours,
With a baby girl in an elevated stool with a strap, and her parents and elder brother aged the sum of two fours.

The baby started crying and howling in discomfort and hunger.
When the father got up and, unstrapping her, lifted her into his arms,
Then slowly put her down when her crying had soothed,
And began feeding her with tiny spoonfuls.

It was then the brother got up:
“I’ll help you, Papa,” he said.
And lovingly to his little sister a few more spoonfuls he fed.

There was genuine love and care in his eyes and his touch,
And the baby brightened up, with a bright broad affectionate smile
that was filled with love, much more than very, very much.

Every first born thus care to the second very caringly does give,
Who in turn reciprocates with love, and a family thus joyously does live.