Dream a Little Dream.

Sometimes I swear Bella lives in her own imaginary place away from the rest of us. A place full of princesses, and castles, and music, and color. A place that she is always royalty or a beautiful ballerina. Sometimes I wish I could go there with her. But what is it about being an adult that hinders you from being able to really let go and escape to that beautiful imaginary place that most of us had as children? So, now I am content to watch her play and dream and live in a world full of magical things that only she can see. I want to be the protector of that wonderful world and keep the real world away. I want to prevent anyone from stifling that wondrous creativity that she carries with her always. 

I love that almost everything she touches instantly becomes something else, something more wonderful in her eyes. I love that she has imaginary friends that go everywhere with her and keep her safe. I love that in her world, all words can be made into songs. I love that to her, anything is a stage and anytime is a good time to dance. I hope she never ever stops believing in those things and never forgets that the whole world is her stage, and I, her ever captivated audience.   

Now I Lay Me. . .

About 3 or 4 months ago, Bella got really in to saying her own prayers at bedtime, instead of folding her hands quietly while I led prayer. And while I loved sneaking peaks of her lying there with her hands folded and her eyes shut tight, I love listening to her say her own prayers so much more. The reason may not be what you think. Of course her simply saying "Now I lay me down to sleep" would be cute enough, but what really makes her prayers so special, so unique, and so. . .well, so BELLA, is that she sings them! Not only does she sing them, but she sings her own original prayers. She introduces each one of them as if it were a song on the radio, "And  now for ____" and then she launches in to the most wonderful prayers ever. Of course she prays for the usual: mommy, daddy, brother, etc, but the most magnificent things are the most unusual things she feels in her heart to pray about. There have been songs about trees, friends, our dog. The list is long, but my personal favorite prayer song of her's was "The Prayer to Jesus' Feet." 

No kidding. 

After a very proud introduction, she went on to sing the most hilariously sentimental prayer song to the Almighty's Feet. 

I can't remember most of it, but it went a little like this (insert completely random melody here) Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord to Jesus' feet. They are so pretty. And I love you. . . .etc., etc. A lyrical masterpiece, really. 

It was truly everything I had not to bust out laughing! How could I laugh though, when she was so very seriously pouring her heart and soul into her song to Jesus' feet?

Lately, she doesn't sing her prayers as much anymore, but she does still say her own most of the time. Sometimes they make sense. More often than not, they don't. They are just completely random ramblings of whatever thoughts pop into her head in that very moment.  Sometimes I am tempted to reign her in, to put her on the "right" track with her prayers. But I fight the urge. Because isn't that what praying to our Father is supposed to be? Speaking from our hearts' no matter how incoherent it may seem to us? God knows our heart; he knows what we are trying to say.  The beauty is found in knowing that we can say anything, anything at all, to Him and He hears us. He listens. Whether it be about our troubles, our joys, or even about Jesus' pretty feet. God wants to hear everything we have to say. And while I don't sing my own prayers, my little girl has taught me so much about the beauty and art of prayer.