Jiya pushed a mango seed
into a pot of brown earth.
“Mango tomorrow,” she said.
Arya poured in a little water.
The next morning,
Jiya ran to the pot.
No mango.
She dug with one finger.
“Maybe it is lost.”
Arya covered the seed again.
“Seeds have work,” she said.
“Most of it happens where we cannot see.”
Every morning, they gave it water.
Some days were sunny.
Some days were gray.
One day, Jiya forgot.
The next day, Arya remembered.
Still, the pot looked empty.
“This is a very slow mango,” Jiya said.
Then one Tuesday,
a green hook lifted the dirt.
Jiya shouted for everyone.
Arya touched the new leaf
with the tip of one finger.
“Mango today?” Jiya asked.
“Water today,” Arya said.
So they did.
And beneath them,
the roots kept doing
their quiet work.