
One day, my father came back from office and gave one single toffee to me, as I was his youngest child. He told me he had bought some more, but couldn't bring them home. He saw some street children on the side walk and gave them all except one which he handed to me. I loved these especial sweets and I was happy to get even one.
Just then I remembered my three sisters who were adults and so would not have minded this act of dad. I was about to eat it, when I had an idea. I cut the toffee into four parts and after giving three pieces to my sisters, ate one of the tiny piece. They thanked me and went their way.
I was left wondering how my favorite toffee tasted better that day.
By, Amita Sinha
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