There is huge pleasure in doing something for the first time.

I was reminded of this last week when my granddaughter Mimi went fishing with me. We drove to the Avon at Pershore and I took her to my normal spot.

I explained to her that fishing required patience and that we might not catch anything. She was unperturbed at the latter and mystified by the former. Patience is not uppermost for a four and a half year old.

My confidence was not high. We had a five foot telescopic rod, a Garbolino fixed spool reel with 6lb mainline, a single lead and a size 16 hook to 3lb monofilament. Simple - my type of fishing. Earlier in the garden, I’d shown her how to cast and, after putting our single piece of worm on the hook, she cast in. “Right! Now we have to sit down and wait,” I said. So Mimi sat down and waited.

Suddenly the rod tip wobbled to show that a fish was on the hook and she started reeling in. The expression on her face was one of pure joy. Pure joy reeling in and then pure joy in seeing the fish come to the surface and into the net. It was a beautiful river perch of 4 or 5 oz. Some anglers go after monster carp or pike but to me every fish is special. And this perch was a beauty.

We safely unhooked it and Mimi was thrilled to hold it in her hand. She smiled the widest smile, not because she had caught a fish, but because she had a new friend. The perch was duly named Sarah and for a while we placed her in a bucket of river water so that we could watch her swim around. Mimi (and I) were fascinated by the colours, stripes, bright orange fins and the spikey fan-shaped dorsal fin.

Later, we placed her safely back to hunt some more worms and small fish. As we get older, it is hard to remember what seeing something for the first time is like. But if we train ourselves to have Mimi’s attitude then we might be surprised by joy.