Steffy sits cross-legged, her blonde hair a tousled halo, gazing at her paper creations with big, thoughtful eyes. She holds up a drawing of a shopkeeper, the tiny cash register colored bright red. "Mummy says shopkeepers get lots of money. Maybe I could buy all the toys I want," she murmurs.
Mum (Steffy’s mother, gentle and practical) turns when Steffy appears, clutching her drawings. "Mum, do you think being a shopkeeper is fun? Do they always get lots of money?"
"Shopkeepers work very hard, darling. Money is important, but it’s also nice to do something that makes you happy every day," she replies, smiling and ruffling Steffy’s hair.
Steffy imagines herself darting across the field, scoring a winning goal. Then, her eyes drift to a group of girls practicing twirls beneath a tree. She tries a spin, arms stretched wide. "Maybe I could be a football star or a ballerina," she giggles, wobbling a bit but refusing to fall.
Steffy holds up her handmade paper dress and admires her work. "If I made clothes for everyone, maybe I could be a famous designer. Or maybe even a model! People clap for models, right?" Her imagination whirls with possibilities, each one sparkling brighter than the last.
"You can be anything you want, Steffy. What matters most is choosing something you love," her mother whispers gently. Steffy leans back, thinking about all the jobs she’s imagined. Her heart feels light, filled with hope and dreams.
Steffy closes her eyes, whispering softly to herself. "Maybe I don’t have to choose just yet. One day, I’ll know what’s best for me," she promises, drifting off as possibilities swirl gently through her mind like stars.
