Tuesday, 9 December 2014

Winter moon

The Girl had just come back from a school quiz – she had been one of the winners for the girls’ school in the local village, and tonight took part in many local village schools against each other. After she came home with her ribbon, she prepared for bed and, while I piled turf into the fireplace, she gathered her things from the car.

“Daddy, come out here quick!” The Girl said. I ran outside in my robe.

“Look at the moon,” she said in awe. “You can see it rising.”

It was true. The white moon, swollen but waning, was moving slowly behind gossamer clouds. We stood for a few minutes in silence, watching it.

You know why I’m so proud of you? I said.

“Why?” she asked.

I was already proud of you for winning the ribbon at the quiz, I said, but I’m a lot more proud of you for being able to stop and notice the sky at night – few people do that. I’m proud that you thought to call me, and that we could look at it together. Thank you.

“I love my life,” she said.

Don’t ever let that change, I said.

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