A Wand Is Not the Only Source of Magic

"Your daughter is very cute," the odd woman declares.
"Thanks," the sitting man replies from under the bus shelter.
"How old is she, four?"
"Yes, yes she is."
"She's very active."
The woman stands there grinning at him with the sun behind her. She's wearing a black backpack and looks at him with eyes through thick suspended lenses. The undulating breeze can be heard from the rustling trees far above them. The sun casts rippling shadows about their spontaneous palaver.
"Yes, she's been like this all day. Nonstop."
The woman switches subjects, "Well I'm off since Friday and don't have to work until Monday."
The man glances back at her with curiosity then formulates a response.
"Yeah, same here."
"Same here?" she replies in disbelief.
"Yeah," he says with a smile.
"That's good," she says.
She turns around and heads to the bus marker.
The four year-old drops a pile of sticks and leaves into her father's lap. He laughs and asks her what he is supposed to do with all of this.
She asks, "Which flower is your favorite?"
He looks down and points at a slightly small curled leaf of oval shape and says, "This one."
She tells him to hold just that one, takes one long stick and swipes the rest onto the ground. At that moment the bus arrives. Dead leaves swirl up in its wake and surpass its stopped form. The little girl runs to the opening doors with the long stick in her hand. Her father follows as the odd woman climbs aboard,
"Is this our bus?"
"Yes," her father says.
"Let's go!" she says with excitement.
"Hi!!!" she says to the driver, "I picked you a flower!"
She hands the driver a wilted dandelion. However one can tell that the driver is filled with pleasure at the gesture. In the girl's other hand she carries the stick she had before. She runs down the aisle past the smiling odd woman and proclaims, "To my favorite seat!"
She sits all the way in the rear on the far right. Her father carries a giant bag of dog food in one hand and the other carries some rolled up newspapers as well as the curled leaf. He sits down next to her as she jumps below between the seats. They seem to play a game that they only know the rules to. It involves the stick and the leaf, and some manipulations of both. They smile and laugh.
Finally her dad says, "Ok, I need you to climb back up on the seat and then pull the cable."
"Ok!" she pipes.
"All right, now on the count of three..."
They count together, "ONE, TWO, THREE!!!"
She pulls the cable with much enthusiasm. So much effort went into it that she doesn't realize that the "Stop Requested" light had turned on and the corresponding bell had went on as a result. She keeps tugging at the cable while still clenching the stick in the opposite hand.
"It's ok," he assures her, "see, you are going to make it stop."
He points at the red sign. She looks up and searches for it. She finds it and grins then hops down to the floor with stick in hand. As the bus halts she runs up to the front.
"Bye!" she tells the driver.
"Is that her wand or her stick?" the odd woman asks the man.
"I think it's both," the man replies.
The driver laughs.
The woman says, "Here's my wand!"
She holds up a small straight stick about ten centimeters in length.
"That's cool," he says as his daughter watches the exchange quietly.
The little girl jumps down to the street below all of a sudden. The man follows her as the leaf he carries is whisked on the wind out of his hand and disappears into faded memory.