A little girl of close to two years – with her blond halo and rounded face of innocence she looked like a cherub – was standing before the automatic doors. Her brother had pushed the ‘Open’ button before her little legs could get there. Her face transformed and she started to cry. Her mother tried to coax her out the door, but she refused to move. She had pushed the button on the set of automatic doors behind her, but she had been set on pushing it for these as well. No amount of pointing out the equality of the situation would appease her.
She had moved to sobbing and was now leaned against the wall beside the button. The door started to close and she looked up at the button expectantly, crying easing up. But her brother protested – it wasn’t fair – and the door was opened by the button from the outside just before her little hand pressed the one inside. Now she was sobbing even harder.
The door was closing again. But her eyes were closed. She opened them just as the door finished its journey. The scrunched up face smoothed and she stretched on tiptoes to slide her open palm onto the button. With one push her world was changed. Moments before, this poor girl’s life had been a horrible pit of misery. The door swung open and she toddled through it, a smile on her face. Life was good.