Notes of Joy

"Look, that's the Gingerbread Man," I said to the children, Beth, 5, and Joy, age six as we drove through the animated Christmas light display in December.

"You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man," Beth began sing-songing over and over as the timed electrical circuits had the character running and hiding through the trees and swinging on playground equipment. I could tell she was familiar with the story from pre-K. The children had just joined our son's family in a preliminary arrangement which may eventually lead to adoption.

As time has gone on and everyone gets better acquainted, our daughter-in-law is often surprised at their quick wit, knowledge and questions. Beth overheard her answering Joy's question about why we call fellow church members "Brother or Sister so-and-so." "God made everyone in the world," Joanna began, and.." Just then Beth interrupted by belting out, "He's got the whole wo-rld, in His hands, in His hands, He's got the whole world in His hands."

The children love music. All Joy's many Christmas presents paled in comparison to the hand-me-down ipod my teen granddaughter gave her. Allison had loaded it with some of her worship songs, and Joy quickly learned to sing them, since the ear-piece seemed a permanent fixture in her ear. Recently the family went to a community showing of the movie, "Courageous," where music provided by a sponsoring church played while the audience gathered. Joy joined in the now-familiar choruses and sang them at the top of her lungs, to the pleased surprise of my daughter-in-law.

Not long ago, our son in Houston alerted me that granddaughter, Anne-Marie, 5, wanted to "Skype" me. The little girls were hovering within camera range, and I urged them all to talk to each other via Skype. They had met at Thanksgiving, so they said tentative shy hellos, then fell into self-conscious silence. "Beth, why don't you show Anne-Marie how you can sing, "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star?" I suggested. She had been singing it non-stop lately, so she began, joined by her sister.

Suddenly I was aware of three voices, as Anne-Marie's sweet, clear voice chimed in over the air-waves and they smilingly shared a lovely trio through the whole song! What a treat this was for me, especially since I hardly ever get to hear my granddaughter sing! The familiar nursery-rhyme words rang out confidently, breaking the barrier of strangeness and distance, while their happy, animated faces showed no trace of shyness. When it was over, they lapsed into bashfulness again, saying good-bye, but happily running off to play. Music had bridged the gap of 500 miles, if only for a moment.