The Little Collector
collector.Every Sunday, Amma took Tara to the crowded flea market. The air smelled of roasting peanuts and fresh jasmine. Tara was a quiet little
buttons.She did not collect coins or stamps. Tara was a collector of
At one stall, a tin box lay open. Inside, buttons winked like tiny moons—red, gold, coconut-shell brown. Tara’s fingers tingled as she saw a small sky-blue button with a silver star.
But a boy’s hand reached for it too. Tara froze, her heart thumping. “You can take it,” she whispered, though she wanted it badly.
The boy smiled and picked another button instead. “Let’s swap one day,” he said. Tara tucked the star button into her palm.
The little collector walked on, feeling her collection—and her heart—grow bigger.