It was a rainy day when I hurriedly hid everything important to me. My house was open to predators, and I was closed to change. My mother’s friend Gennie was staying at our house for a year with her daughter, Rosa. Gennie’s husband left and they had nowhere to go.

Living with timid Gennie was alright; she helped around the house and didn’t include herself in family matters. Her daughter, on the contrary, was my teenage nightmare. Only four, Rosa had an impressive vocabulary with ‘colorful’ words. She did the dirty finger at my friends. I locked her out of my room when I studied. She cried a lot. She begged me to play all the time. 

Our family hid desserts from her in our own home, since it made her impossibly active. Rosa’s nap times were my favorite. Eventually I started ignoring her. When I got back to school, our ‘play time’ became so non-existent that Rosa told her mother she was lonely. 

She couldn’t start school until the following year due to financial reasons. My mother urged me to play with her more, but if we play once, it won’t stop there. That’s how little children are, but I wasn’t obligated to be her playmate. My family was already doing her mother a huge favor.

But one day, I saw Rosa talking with a doll and making it talk back to her. The first time I sympathized was when I stopped self-pitying. I did my homework while watching her, and she asked to use my box of crayons. So I gave her some paper.

To my surprise, little Rosa was born a spectacular artist. When I praised her, she begged me to watch her sketch every day, while I did my homework. I gave her drawing ideas and we always colored together, until she became better than me. 

Now, Rosa is an exceptionally talented young artist. I’ll forever be glad that I made a difference on someone who could possibly change the world. You don’t have to be grown-up to do it.