Sara was beside her father on their tractor. They were going to collect hay for their cattle.
It was her father’s work. Sara just tagged along for fun.
She loved visiting their field, where her father grew pulses.
The hay had been piled up at one corner of their field, ready to be loaded onto the trolley of the tractor, and carried home, where three cows, two horses, and thirteen sheep were waiting in the barn.
Sara helped her father in loading the hay. She lifted little bunches of it in her small arms.
“Not so much. Only as much as an eleven year old can lift, Sara,” advised her father, on noticing the urge in her to overwork.
“Yes, father,” she said, smiling.
It took them more than an hour to load the hay.
Then they turned the tractor around to go home.
It had started to drizzle. The road to home was only good for the fare weather.
Rain turned the mud into dirt.
It became difficult for the tractor to move. The tyres slipped at many spots. At many others, they almost got stuck in the mud.
There was a small stream they needed to cross on their way back. But the front wheels of the tractor got badly stuck.
Sara’s father tried all his driving skills to get it out, but in vain.
He took his shovel to free the tyres, but he needed help with the steering.
“I can help you, father,” said Sara.
“You are only too small for it. You think you can do it?” he asked.
“Yes, I am sure.”
Without further questions, Sara took the steering wheel.
Her father shovelled some dirt from around the tyres, and got ready to push the tractor.
“Are you ready?” he asked Sara.
“Press down the accelerator, and hold the steering straight,” he said.
Sara did as told. Pressed down the accelerator and held the steering wheel straight.
She was elated.
The tractor leaped forward, enough for the tyres to get free.
“Good job, Sara. I am so proud,” said her father.
He took the steering and pushed down the accelerator himself now.
The tractor moved forward, smoothly.
The sun was about o set, as they drove towards home.