“Have you ever heard my magical harmonica?”
I’ll never forget that night. I was no more than eight, and it was raining like the dickens. My dad taught me how to count, from the time I saw the flash of the lightning, to the time I heard the thunder. Then we’d divide that number by five and find out how many miles away it was.
I often suspected that he was just trying to make me do my math, but I never thought that again after this particular evening. There was no time for counting. The storm was right on top of us, and I knew it.
My dad knew it too. He was standing beside my bed, taking a shiny rectangular object out of an old white handkerchief.
“What does it do?” I asked.
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On what is needed,” he said, making himself comfortable in the old wooden rocker that my grandmother had given us.
I was never more thankful to have my dad in my room. I tried to act like a grown up most of the time – tucking myself in and sleeping without a light – maybe because my dad had lost his job, and my mom had to go back to work, and the two of them seemed so unhappy.
My dad put that harmonica to his lips and the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard came out. My heart stopped racing and I closed my eyes, just for a second.
The next thing I knew, it was morning.
I knew that I’d get to writing eventually. With all of my talk about finding a purpose, I’ve been writing down some of my story ideas. This one came to me today, don’t ask me how, and I’m super excited because it’s short and I already know the ending (kind of!).
It may or may not read like a children’s book, but I think the overall theme – as it comes together – may be more about father and son relationships. I sure hope that wasn’t too much of a spoiler.
Anyway, I’m doing bite size pieces to align with my own attention span. I’d say I did well because this particular portion is my ideal length. Anything longer and you might lose me.
I spent a little too much time on the illustration. If it wasn’t for that, I may have included the next section. So I’ll tell you now, the next parts need to have basic images or I’m going to wear myself out! (I say that now but who knows how I’ll feel tomorrow)
Anyway, that’s about all for now. Thanks for reading… I hope you enjoyed the Magical Harmonica, Part I.
The heart of a father is the masterpiece of nature. -Abbé Prévost
a sprinkle of faith 
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