Inci was coming home from her after-school class when she politely asked, “May I have a glass of water, please?”

She drank it and smiled. The teacher asked gently, “Does the water here taste better than at home?” Inci nodded shyly.

“Do you have a brother or sister at home?” the teacher continued.

“No,” Inci replied.

“Would you like to have one?”

“Why?” Inci wondered.

“So you could look after them, play together, share your toys, give them water, feed them, and—when they grow—help change their diapers,” the teacher said with a smile.

Inci looked down at her hands and whispered, “I play with my dolls. I love them. But they don’t play with me. They aren’t alive. I want to play with someone who talks to me, who plays with me, who loves me back.”

The teacher heard a child’s heartfelt wish inside those simple words. And that was Inci’s precious conversation with her own little heart.