It started out as a ploy to get  community service hours for National Honors Society.

I walked into Children’s Learning Center last Wednesday (St. Pattie’s Day) with my friend Krista not knowing what to expect. We knew we were supposed to work with children, but that was about it.

The manager told us we’d been working in different rooms. The first room was full of 1 and 2-year-olds.  I breathed a sigh of relief when Krista volunteered to stay in that room. I can’t change a diaper to save my life, and I definitely prefer little kids who already have learned to talk.

The manager dropped me off in a room with 4-year-olds and with in 30 seconds, someone was crying. Their pre-school teacher was getting the kids, all decked out in St. Pattie’s gear, lined up to go to breakfast.  A boy in a green stripped shirt (who I later found out is named Nick) cut the only girl in purple (Lakea) in line because she wasn’t wearing green. Lakea’s teacher had offered her a different shirt, but Lakea was adamant about staying in her purple outfit.

Lakea cried all the way down the hall and was still pouting when I kneeled next to her at the kids’ table. I figured the best way to make her happy was just to distract her.

“I like your hair!” I said to her.

She peered out at me behind a mop of golden brown ringlets. “Thanks.” She paused, trying to decide whether she should talk to me. “My mommy did my hair today! She doesn’t do my brothers’ hair because he’s a boy. My brother is eight. He plays baseball…”

From then on, she could not stop talking to me. When we got back to the classroom, she asked me to play with her, and she got mad at me when I left her to go watch other kids. She wanted to hold my hand wherever I went, and she tried to sit on my lap during circle time.

Inexperienced with kids, I was a little baffled. This girl barely knew me, yet she was already attached to me like a little barnacle.  My best friend Martha calls it ignorant affection. And it’s true; little kids don’t know that you’re supposed to take the time to get to know someone before you act affectionate.

But there’s something so refreshing about the way Lakea acted. She wasn’t careful or standoffish. She met me, she liked me, and that was all there was to it.

I think we can all learn something from Lakea’s friendliness.