“Alright, little one, time for bed,” sighed my mummy, Lady Penelope, as she carried my baby self to her grand, cosy bed. As Mummy neatly tucked my tiny figure under the duvet’s soft covers, I caught a glimpse of something crudely crafted, yet a beautiful shade of pastel pink, yellow and white.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Mummy cooed as she carefully slipped under the covers, being very careful not to tip me out of bed,
“When I was just a baby, Parker made this mobile for me out of scraps of felt cloth and bits of precious silk. Tonight, I asked him to hang it over my bed to bring both generations together - his daughter, and mine.”
I cooed in awe. The animals and sweet little cherub angels floating above on small wires felt like little sprites come to watch over us all night long.
“And it’s just the beginning,” Mummy continued.
“Every time Parker hung the mobile over my Moses basket, he’d tell me this wonderful story, which once he heard in one of his old childhood storybooks.
And now, tonight, I tell what once was my favourite story to you. It’s now your’s, little one.”
So I listened.
Closely, carefully, and most important of all, with heart.
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