The Interview

“Hello, Darwin. Nice to meet you. I am Laurence,” the principal said, adjusting his glasses. “I’ll ask you a few questions, and then you may go.”

“I am MangoBite,” the child replied, leaning forward slightly. “And do you only get to ask questions here?”

A faint smile flickered across Mr. Laurence’s face. “No. You may ask yours after I finish. So, MangoBite,how old are you? And what do you enjoy the most?”

“I’m seven. I like playing with Poppins, Dona, and Roxy when I’m home.”

“That sounds like quite a group of friends.”

“Yeah!kind of.”

“And what would you like to be when you grow up?”

“A gardener,” MangoBite said without hesitation. “I’ll plant cherry trees and eat cherries.”

Mr. Laurence chuckled softly. “Practical. I like that.”

He glanced at his notes. “Tell me—who do you like spending time with more, your mother or your father?”

“Both,” MangoBite said. Then, after a pause, “But they’re silly.”

“Oh?”

“They sit all day staring at a small black window.”

“A.. small black window?”

“The phone,” MangoBite clarified. “Poppins says that.”

“I see,” Mr. Laurence nodded. “And Poppins,where does she stay?”

“Next door. She comes every evening with Roxy and Dona. Roxy is lazy,she sleeps in the cat tree all the time. Dona plays a lot. She wags even when she’s not happy.”

“And what do you all do together?”

“We play Game of Treats, Shell Game and sometimes Scavenger Hunt.”

Mr. Laurence leaned back, watching the child more carefully now. “You seem to like animals.”

MangoBite nodded.

“And Poppins is your?”

“Granny.”

“Ah.”

There was a brief pause before he continued, his tone shifting just slightly. “Now, I’ll ask you something a little harder. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think about God? About religion,churches, temples, mosques?”

MangoBite’s eyes lifted, as if searching somewhere beyond the ceiling.

“God made mountains, beaches, valleys, rainbows and cherries,” the child said. “He puts magic in things. He is kind.”

Mr. Laurence didn’t write that down.

“What is beauty to you?” he asked instead.

“I am beautiful.”

This time, he didn’t laugh immediately. When he did, it was softer. “That’s a good answer. Remember it.”

He hesitated before his next question. “Do you think people should be equal? No matter who they are?”

MangoBite frowned slightly, thinking.

“The fight should be equal,” the child said at last. “When I fight with Sarah, it isn’t. She’s bigger, stronger. She always wins the marshmallow box.”

“And that’s unfair?”

“Hmm… maybe. But she gives me some later.” A small shrug. “So it’s okay.”

Mr. Laurence closed his file.

“You understand more than you think,” he said quietly. “It was wonderful speaking with you. The interview is over. Do you have anything you’d like to ask me?”

MangoBite’s eyes brightened. “Can I pick some cherries from the garden?”

For a moment, Mr. Laurence forgot there was a garden.

Then he smiled. “Yes. Of course you can.”

He returned to his office, but did not sit down.Through the window, he noticed the old cherry tree,its branches fuller than he remembered, its fruit catching the afternoon light. He had planted it years ago, with careful intention.

He couldn’t recall the last time he had truly seen it.His hand reached for his phone out of habit, then paused.Outside, a child’s laughter drifted faintly through the air.

Mr. Laurence stepped away from his desk.

For once, there were no forms to review, no lists to compare, no quiet calculations of who deserved more.

Only a tree and sweetness, waiting without judgment.