Rereading childhood

On a recent group trip into the wilderness, having bunked the afternoon safari, eight-year-old Naina and I made our way to the hotel pool. I was confused about the relatively easy route and said to Naina: “I’m sorry, I don’t have the best sense of direction.” She replied instantly, as is her wont, saying: “Mine isn’t great either. But I can always find my way to the library.”