Sweeping smiles.

As I sat on the curb, waiting for an opportunity to capture the controlled, menacing speed of a tuk-tuk, I began to scoot closer to a small girl. She appeared to be no older than four, and she swept the sidewalk with a straw broom. It could have been her father that she imitated, or maybe a close family friend, but in tiny misplaced strokes she handled the broom that was twice her size while her sweeping companion shoved the dust off the walk with force and experience.

Over the next few minutes I shifted my weight on the concrete, and carefully observed as I felt an opportunity would soon arise. She now stood by her lonesome against the wall and softly grabbed at the broom that had minutes ago been set down.

*Click* said my shutter.

At first she stared with a questioning and apprehensive glance, but soon brought the straw broom closer and stood at my side -- an arms length away.

*Click* said my shutter.

She looked at me again. With dark eyes she wondered if I was safe and as her chin nearly touched her chest, she studied my eyes with her own and my heart formed a smile. Even now, a smile is lifted to my mouth as I think of her beauty and childlike wonder.

I gestured at her and offered up the screen of my camera, and as she inched over I waited in peace, watching her every move. She looked at the photograph I had just taken, and then looking from her picture to my smiling face, she broke out in a whole-hearted giggle. With tiny white teeth and a front-toothless grin that would melt the smile of any old grump she bellowed with laughter and threw her head back in joy.

Thrilled with her amusement, I looked through the lense again. Now, to give her a laugh more rather find art for myself, I snapped a few more shots in rapid succession. She posed.

*Click*

*Click*

*Click*

She sauntered back to me, and leaning softly over my shoulder her heart laughed again. Be it known, there is nothing as joyful as the laughter of a child.

As again she moved back to position, again my finger pressed the shutter. Then, quick out of hiding, sprung three more. Two girls and a boy with his hair buzzed short now huddled around me and begged for a look. Four sacred heads, and four little hearts, crowded around, chatting amongst themselves. In a matter of seconds they learned this new game and they pressed together waiting for me -- three in one shot. Siblings or friends, I wasn't sure, but a close-knit group they were.

If you are wondering about the fourth, she seemed to be the oldest of the group and stood quietly off to the side. As I offered to take her picture, she graciously declined; smiling as she did so.

I wished in this moment, and I still wish it now, that I spoke the Thai language, because oh did they talk! The three youngest broke into a symphony of words and I smiled and laughed as I listened to them express their photographic triumph, and their dreams. I can only wonder what it all means, but I know that their smiles and mine broke the plane -- the differences between us were bridged for an instant and that is a triumph for me.