Gorgeous individual and the little rustic baby, happy to cover her hair and hands in dust

Gorgeous individual; Jay S: Quite when did the little rustic baby, happy to cover her hair and hands in dust, running after butterflies annoyed with them for not yeilding to her palm, talking to little bushes and even to those little stray... pups who mistook her for a long-lost but just-found-again first cousin, flashing the most divinely innocent smiles at the merest excuse for a joke, breaking into a music whose notes only she could decipher, create and sing , going into a daughterly sulk at the slightest hint of perceived neglect and happy to be won back into her father's arms with no more than an excuse as an explanatin form him --- quite when did this little imp from paradise become "a gorgeous indivdual"? She was always the most fascinating, most lovable little daughter of God , who, like Wordsworht's Lucy, bounded from hil- top to hil-top in playfulness and in ecstasy -- but Gorgeous ?? And individual ?? Somehow, the expression seems to de-personalise the irrepressible bundle of energy and life that you are.
And about distances .......I don't know much about the place that kilometers have in human relations, but I can think of some bonding that lasts decade after decade after decade between people divided by the equator and with no communication between them at all . Come to think of it, even my relationship with my mother, now no longer in my world, remains more "alive and strong" than my relationship with many who live and stay and move and function within yards of me every day.