Little willing hands...
- Lara Jay
- Aug 23
- 2 min read
Since they were very little, I have encouraged my children to look after the little piece of earth around our home.
Every now and then, we put on our gloves, gather something to collect the rubbish in, and head outside on a little mission. It has become one of those simple childhood rituals that, over time, has quietly grown into something much bigger.
I often photograph these moments, not only to remember the day, but to preserve the feeling of it — their small hands doing something meaningful, their curious eyes searching through the grass, and the wonderful seriousness with which children can approach a mission when they believe it matters.
Today, something was different.
After being encouraged to do this a few times, my eldest, Yuvraj, came to me and asked if we could go on our mission again.
Of course, Flora was ready to join.
So we gathered our gloves and our collection bag and set off.
There was more rubbish hiding in the grass than we expected. Bottle caps, plastic pegs, pieces of plastic bags, crumbling polystyrene, dishwashing sponges, and all sorts of little fragments in every imaginable size. Some things were easy to spot; others seemed to have become part of the earth itself, tucked quietly between the blades of grass.
And then, amongst all that did not belong there, we found some things that did.
Worms.
Tiny creatures going about their very important business beneath our feet.
The children carefully picked them up and moved them somewhere safer, giving them a better little home to continue their work.
Before long, one of their neighbourhood friends came along and joined the mission. Suddenly, three little explorers were working together, completely absorbed in the task. They searched, collected, discovered, moved, and helped one another. They became a small team with a very important job.
Watching them, I realised that these moments are about much more than picking up rubbish.
They are about learning to notice.
To understand that the place where we live is not simply the space around our house. It is part of something much larger. It is shared with worms, birds, insects, trees, plants, neighbours, and countless little beings we may never even see.
It is about learning that caring for the earth does not always have to begin with something enormous.
Sometimes it begins with a bottle cap in the grass.
A piece of plastic caught beneath a bush.
A sponge that should never have been there.
A little worm gently returned to the soil.
And three children discovering that their small hands can make a difference.
Today, they finished their mission tired, dirty, and very proud.
And I hope that somewhere inside them, these little missions are planting something that will grow with them — a sense of responsibility, wonder, and love for the great Mother Earth we are all lucky enough to call home.
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