The Heart's Music

My grandson, Edmund, sang to me last night. He's three months old, but he sang. I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. He sang.

Don't be doubting it. I know singing when I hear it.

He was lying on my bed, and I turned on the ceiling fan to entertain him. But--and who knows why?--he was more interested in me than in the fan. I began to sing, "When blossoms flowered amid the snows, upon a winter night, was born a child, the Christmas rose, the king of love and light."

I know it's May, but Charlie, that's Edmund's oldest brother, had just asked to hear Christmas music, so it just came out of me. It's a song I've always loved anyway. No question it was a hit with Edmund.

I'd watch that kid, if I were his mom or dad. They may have a musical genius there. Last night his pitch and his voice matched mine, high and clear, his a little clearer. No, I won't go so far as to say that he got the tune right, and he has no words yet, but what he sang was beautiful. Bring a smile to your face and a tear to your eye. Oh yes.