Tonight I sent my youngest daughter to practice her guitar. She went off to her bedroom and I heard her playing her standard songs. She started taking lessons in January from my dad and she's getting pretty good. Her favorite song to play right now is "Grandma's Feather Bed".
I soon realized she had been playing much longer than normal, though she usually quits when her fingers start to hurt. I was hearing the same unfamiliar song over and over. Standing outside her room, I listened for a few minutes. She softly sang along and then she stopped and I heard pencil scratch across paper.
When I opened the door and walked in, she quickly hid the paper under the bed. I asked if she was writing a song, and she nodded, then told me I couldn't read it. I reminded her I had let her read my book, so she said, "I won't let you read it, but I'll sing it to you." So I sat on the bed and she picked up her guitar again.
"Have you heard about the story Hannah's Suitcase? It's about a girl in Nazi Germany. This song is what a Jewish child might sing when she dreams of peace," she said. Then she proceeded to sing a beautiful tune about freedom and feeling safe. My eyes teared up as I listened to the simple melody.
She's only ten, but I saw some beautiful potential tonight and I'm so grateful she was willing to share with me. I think there may be another writer in the family.