A small child sat with her father across from me on the subway train. She appeared to be about three years old. I had just rushed onto the train and was hot and flustered. Although I was a harried sight as I fumbled through my pack sack for the book I was reading, the little girl paid me no heed. No doubt she regarded me as just another old lady of no consequence. Boring for sure. I had difficulty finding the book in my overloaded bag, which made me feel more over-heated and muddled than I already was. To cool myself off I pulled out my Chinese fan. I always carry one with me for just such occasions. I snapped it open and began to fan myself. It's a pretty fan, made of white silk and decorated with pale pink and purple flowers. An Asian woman sitting adjacent to me smiled knowingly. I smiled back. But it was the reaction of the little girl that pleased me more. Not only did she smile, she was positively enthralled. She looked at me as if I were someone who had given her a special gift. A fan was something she had probably only seen in pictures, or heard about in fairy tales. But here was a real, live lady using a real fan in the most prosaic of situations. I admit that I continued to fan myself because I was enjoying her happy attention. A few station stops later her father took her by the hand and led her out of the car. She strained to catch a last glimpse of me as they walked away.
I use a fan frequently for practical reasons, but I had a brief exchange with a small child who found it magical. The entire incident lasted only a few minutes, but the pleasure I felt from unintentionally giving a child a few moments of enchantment lasted me the whole day.
- G.P.
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