Little Star

“Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.”

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart  Did you know that Mozart wrote the music to, 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,' at the age of five?  Last night I witnessed the most beautiful rendition of 'Twinkle,' that I could've ever imagined. We're back at the beach house.  I know, we were only away from it for a week, but it's not being rented at the moment and neither of my siblings could make use of it this weekend, so we've returned to this little piece of paradise.   Last night, my husband and I had just put the girls to bed and we decided to take a glass of wine out to the deck.  It was an unusually balmy night, but the wind had really picked up so we took a blanket out to throw over our legs.  We'd been chatting for about ten minutes when I heard a faint noise.  I looked back at the house and saw Pip standing at the window, knocking.  (Unfortunately she'd had a little nap in the car during the afternoon drive to the beach house, and was once again having trouble getting to sleep.) Big Daddy-O got up, went inside and put Pip back to bed.  Not three minutes had passed before we heard another rap at the window.  There was Pip, bright-eyed, wearing nothing but her pull-up.  (She's never been big on pajamas.)  It was obvious that she was nowhere near sleep, so I motioned for her to come outside and join us.  She happily scurried over to my chaise-lounge and jumped onto my lap.  I cuddled her up in the blanket and breathed her in; her hair smelled like baby-shampoo.  Pip was excited.  I'm sure she couldn't believe her good fortune.  I looked at my husband's face and he was grinning from ear to ear; one of those gorgeous, "Isn't our daughter lovely?" kind of smiles. "Mama, when I saw you and Daddy out here, I just wanted to come be with you and see the wind,"  she said.   "I understand Sweetie, and I think you're having trouble getting to sleep because you had a nap today, but this is a very special night.  This isn't going to happen every night.  This is usually the time when Daddy and I visit with each other." "I know Mama, this isn't going to happen every night, look at that cute little branch, Mama!"  Pip felt heavenly.  She was so warm and snuggly under the blanket with me, with the wind passionately swirling around us.  My husband's chair was right beside us, but I felt sorry that he wasn't experiencing the closeness of Pip.  He wasn't feeling her heart beat under the blanket, or her little toes kissing my legs.  I felt sorry, but I wasn't willing to give her up!   Big Daddy-O and I tried to resume our previous conversation, but Pip kept interjecting with, "Look at that sunset over there, let's go see it!" and, "Look at how bright the moon is!"  Watching day turn to night through our daughter's eyes was magical.   We spoke of stars and clouds and sailing ships, "I'm going to get a sailing ship and go on lots of adventures at the beach house,"  Pip said.  We were having a grand time, but it was getting late, so I came up with a plan, "Pip, when we see the first star appear, we'll all go inside and go to bed."  The three of us searched the sky for a twinkle.  "I see one!"  I said, but it was too faint for Pip to see. "There it is," said my husband smoothly.  He directed our eyes to a the night sky behind us, where we saw a proudly shining star.  "Let's sing to it, Mama,"   Pip suggested.  With her head against mine and the blanket forming a cocoon around us, Pip, Big Daddy-O and I sang 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.'  It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments that you want to slow right down; the crashing waves, the ocean-air, the glorious little star, and my daughter's sweet voice joining my husband's and mine. Thank you, little five-year-old Mozart for writing that lovely melody.  I wonder if you heard it last night.