I look at them and think about her… Calineczka. Or wait, how she was named in English? Thumbelina? You know, the one perfect little girl from one of the most amazing stories by Hans Christian Andersen. Tiny one, amazing one, which had to go thru so much to find her own love, and grow up…

To be someone not just a tiny and precious addition.


And waterlilies look like they just gave birth to many of them. When I close my eyes I see them. Little, scared girls. Suddenly left by petals which look so fake, so plastic like, but when you look closer, you see the mathematical perfection. Not just beauty, but something more. Something from a higher shelf of science… And of course I see the ladies waiting for their daughters. Oh they look fancy. They wear their best dresses, and best hats. But also… biggest expectations. Because a child must be not only perfect, not only better than others kids, not only most flawless, most beautiful, most amazingly build but also can be smart… Yeah, smart is not that important, right?

Just the look.


Mothers, future mums around the pond, but which one thumbelina to choose? Bigger or smaller, with golden hair or silver, blue or yellow? Will she suit to my fancy bag and to a car so big and to a house with modern decore… Will she be okay with all those pieces which are already so perfectly glued to my every day?

Will she? Good, that she is tiny, so if mummy is bored, she can just put little girl away. To forget. To just not care. Just leave her a drop of water and one candy. To make her look good on Instagram photos. When she will like to take one? When she will be in a mood to be mother again.

Because everything is now an accessory.

Even kids… even them.

PS. Why I am so pessimistic again? Because I found out about books of eggs. Catalogs of ladies and their eggs which are for sale. Who choose from? White or black, long hair or shorter, intelligent or maybe only artistic? Believing or not? And of course those fields of surrogates. More like farms of course, but I like to look at those ladies as trees which just get one bee… and produce one or few fruits. For everyone who has money. Not necessary love… Yeah. I am old-fashioned. Or maybe normal?

That scares me.


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