Aspirations

                                                     Aspirations

Sebbie and Noah, ages 4 and 5, walked ahead of the group, distancing themselves from aunts, uncles, girl cousins and nattering, bossy grandparents.

Sebbie's feet hurt, unaccustomed to hot, sweaty boots on a warm day.

Noah stayed cool, hands in pockets, shades, baseball cap with a flat brim like the Toronto Blue Jays' pitcher Ricky Romero.

"Noah" said Sebbie, "I think I want to become a teacher. I like conveying ideas to other kids, and it's really rewarding to see the coin drop. My sister Skarly learns quick. I taught her the word 'No' in French the other day."

"What's 'No' in French, Sebbie?" asked his curious pal.

"Non"

"Boy, are you ever smart! Bilingual at 4!"

"What do you want to do when you grow up, Noah?"

"I think that with the problems I've encountered with my eyesight, I'd like to be an opthalmologic surgeon. My grampa Greg says I'm as smart as he is, which is pretty darn smart, and I could be anything I wanted to be. All I need ia the money to get through years of school"

"Good for you. You'll find the money" enthused Sebastian.

"There's a long road ahead of us, Sebbie" commented Noah.

"I can't even see over that hill. And my feet are hurting" replied Sebbie.

Looking down, an observant Noah said, "It might help if you had your boots on the right feet!"