Dear Jasmina

Last Friday, we had a friend over for supper. It was her first time meeting Marie-Hélène and amoung some nice gifts, she gave us a CD of lullabies. So far, Marie-Hélène has been listening to the same music we listen to… we haven’t made any effort to stream Mozart into her dreams. So, last night at bathtime, Christian unwrapped the CD and washed Marie-Hélène to the sound of lullabies. I was downstairs writing an essay.

I later joined them for her evening feed and Christian told me to listen to the best song on the CD…

Bonne nuit, cher enfant
Quand tu dors dans mes bras
Le monde tourne en rond
Et le jour reviendra
Jours de larmes, de sourires
Jours de peines ou de joies

Roughly translated as:
Goodnight, dear child
When you sleep in my arms
The world turns round
And the day will come again
Days of tears, of smiles
Days of sadness or of joy

And suddenly, because I wonder why she doesn’t drink more, or if she’s getting enough, or why she cries sometimes, and what my next paragraph should be in the long pages left of my essay… I felt all teary. “It makes me want to cry” I tell Christian. Marie-Hélène is so sweet on his arm, the kitchen is clean, her little fuzzy head bobs as she looks about with her blue eyes and ready smile. “This moment isn’t going to last…” I explain in answer to Christian’s “why”. And now he feels teary. “You should put it on your blog” he says. So here it is… a little moment, bottled up and saved for days when we are older, and forgetful of the magic we witnessed.