Updated: The video is public now, so you should be able to view it.
I wake in the morning early
And always, the very first thing
I poke out my head
And I sit up in bed
And I sing, and I sing, and I sing!
by Rose Fyleman
This is Ava. And that is her story. For seven years, I have been the primary benefactor of Ava’s songs, the songs of her heart.
She wakes up singing; she goes to bed singing. She sings to her stuffed animals and to her crayons. She sings to keys on the piano and to the produce in the store. She sings to cars passing by and to people eating nooodles.
When I first met her seven years ago this morning, my very first thought was “Hello Ava.” Until that moment, she was going to be Evelyn. Her dad had the very same thought and so, she was Ava. We knew that Ava meant “life,” but soon discovered that it also meant “bird.” It was as though she said, “Hello Daddy. Hello Mama. I sing!”
And oh, what a song bird she is. She has songs for getting dressed and songs for folding laundry. She has songs for wearing tap shoes and songs for cleaning the bathroom. She has welcome home songs for daddy, love songs for mama and lullabies for Jude.
This morning on our ride to school she sang a little ditty about how her doll’s hat’s name was Joey. And wasn’t Joey such a beautiful name.
Even her artwork sings.
She marks all special occasions with her own spontaneous songs. You know that feeling when something is so wonderful that you wish that you could break out into song–she does it. They burst out of her filling the air with her jubilee.
Today on her seventh birthday, I thought I would share one of those moments with you. During her brother’s first birthday party, after the candle had been blown out and the presents had been opened, Ava saw a room full of guests with nothing left to do. She disappeared for a costume change and reappeared with her own gift.
Happy Birthday my beautiful song bird! May you always sing and sing and sing!!