There is Always a Song

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She asked me if the word “flower” started with an “L”.  I said, No, it starts with an “F”, and then went back to what I was doing.  A minute later, she brought me the paper she had been working on and showed me the word “flower” written across it in neat four-year-old handwriting.  My jaw dropped.  Something clicked in that little brain of hers, and this week she started to read sentences like, I am Sam, and Mat sat.  Yesterday she was singing her ABC’s opera-style.  Infact, she sings more than half of her day away.  Her words tell stories, feelings, and funnies.  She recently hurt her big toe and I overheard her telling Nadine about it.  She was saying how her owie was “right on my big pinky.  It was SO much bleeding.  Mommy put a bandaid on it.  It’s a kitty bandaid.  It’s pink.  I like them.  Where did you get the hello kitty  bandaids, Mommy?  Wegmans?  I like that store.”  And on she goes until she falls asleep at night.  Even then, Nadine informs me she talks in her sleep.  Elsie, last night you said, ‘I want crackers!’ in your sleep!  When I told her to drink some more water she said, I’m going to lose my heart if I do that!  When we were outside, she was looking at her shadow and said, Look at the statue of my hair!  Her little pony tails were sticking out.   

This morning she told me, Mom, I want to go skydiving for our date.  When we’re driving, the inside volume of our car is usually on the higher decibel level.  If you can imagine two or three conversations going on, complete with sound effects, sometimes a baby squawking in the midst, and then to top it all off, Elsie is usually singing.  Songs about life.  Songs about Jesus.  Songs about her family.  It is so out of place sometimes.  Usually I just hear lots of noise.  Then when I separate the sounds, I can hear her little sweet song, oblivious to the cacophony around her, singing from her heart.  Oh, Elsie Rose.  What a beautiful song you bring to our lives.


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