My Niece and the Earth

I have a niece. She is six years old now. This spring, she became an elementary school student. She is the only child of my younger brother and his wife. It seems she likes dancing and calligraphy. She was a child conceived right after they had given up following fertility treatment, and my brother, who became a father at 44, dotes on his daughter so much that it makes me look away in embarrassment.

100 years from now, if she lives a long life, my niece will be 106. What will the world look like through her eyes?

Nearly half a century ago, I remember drawing a picture of the future Earth in elementary school. Every student in the class held a large paintbrush in their small hands, filling their drawing paper with flying cars and robots that could cook. It was an era when air conditioners were still rare. My mother used a twin-tub washing machine that would shake violently with a clanking sound.

I never imagined that the future 50 years later would be like this. I never doubted that the future would always be bright and that the Earth would evolve into a superstar that the universe would be proud of. We have air conditioners in every room and washing machines that even dry our clothes, but this is not the future I envisioned. I thought convenience and happiness would arrive as a set. I thought that if life were more comfortable, we would be able to smile more.

The other day, my brother sent a short video to my smartphone. It seems they went to a local summer festival. My niece, wearing a yukata, is crouching in front of a plastic pool where colorful water balloons are floating. As I played the video, my eyes widened. There is a little boy next to my niece. Maybe about three years old. Perhaps he had been scooping goldfish before the balloon fishing, as he is stirring the pool water with a paper scooper that has completely torn. My niece was watching that boy intently. She gently restrained the boy who was trying to lean forward in his excitement, and just watched as the child, having returned to his original position, played with the scooper.

A kind big sister. My niece was truly a kind sister to that child. She didn't teach him the correct way to play, nor did she scold him for being noisy. It was as if she was just watching over him to make sure he didn't get hurt. She had completely forgotten about her own balloon fishing.

My niece, an only child, learned how to interact with others from her mom, dad, and grandma. She learned from her nursery school teachers and the older children. Is it really possible to cherish another child this much just from that?

My niece, who is six now, will not jump straight to being 106. Naturally, there are 100 years of time in between. If the gaze that cherishes oneself and others continues to increase across the world over these 100 years, the Earth, too, will naturally become a planet loved by many of its inhabitants. Just as my niece loved that little boy.