Something about Kelly

        "Kulot". Means curly haired. Yes, that's how I usually call Kelly. Pretty little kid. About 3 years old by now. Very seldom would I see her today playing in the village park together with a younger brother and accompanied by a babysitter. Kulot! Fondly I would call out to her from afar. Sometimes she would wave her hand in return. But more often than not, she would just go on riding on the swing or go on playing with the other children around. One day I met Kelly and Renren (her kid brother) who was holding onto the babysitter's hand. They had just entered the village gate. I first noticed little Renren. And while trying to sort of have a small conversation with him, out came Kelly from the back of a parked car. She was laughing, smiling. Running towards us, she seems to say "Caught you there, didn't I?" Well, I smiled back and greeted her just the same. "Kulot!" And after, we parted ways.
         Just one sad note. Her father was shot dead ,gangland style, more than a year ago. Never knew who the killer was. Back then I asked one of her older brother if he missed their dad. Teary eyed, he said yes. And my thoughts went back to Kulot. She must have surely missed their dad too.