When I first started babysitting when I was 11, I loved it.
I remember feeling so responsible and grown up.
Putting the little ones to bed, brushing their teeth, slipping their little arms into their jammies. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
I've always loved children, their wide eyes and quick smiles.
I remember a few years back, at a family reunion, one of my relatives had a new little baby and had forgotten her food at home. She handed the little one off to me while she rushed home, feeling horrible.
The baby then promptly began to cry, like I knew she would.
I couldn't get her to calm down. I tried rocking back and forth, making silly faces, that kind of thing.
But then, a still small voice whispered:
"Sing her a primary song."
I started singing quietly to her as I swayed back and forth.
She stopped crying. Just like that.
It was amazing.
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