My 4 year old nephew Henry was making such a ruckus. His shoulders were heaving as his little body shook all over. One could see a stream of tears running down his face. His baby blue eyes were red where he had rubbed them with his small little hands. That sound he kept making sounded like someone had run over his favorite dog on the highway in front of him. He didn’t stop when I offered my silk handkerchief as he blew his nose and returned it to me. The loud pitiful wails that came out of his mouth were heart wrenching .When I asked what was wrong, he stuttered and tried but no distinguishable words escaped his mouth. I didn’t think it was possible for a small child to shed so many crocodile tears. It turned out his sister had gone for a bike ride and declined his request to tag along. I didn’t sense an end to his crying or pain in sight . He wiped his face on the sleeve of his white stained t-shirt. One could hear him make quick baby sniffles. The kid was stuck with me, we were the only ones in the house. Coming up with an idea I approached my sad little nephew. “How about some vanilla ice cream?” I suggested. Henry’s eyes lighted up like fourth of july fireworks. “With sparkles? he asked eagerly. I nodded as he ran to give me a big hug. He then proclaimed that I was the bestest aunt in the whole wide world. All was forgotten, well for the moment anyway.
The line I had to describe was the sounds of Henry crying.