We eat and chat about Natalie’s schoolwork and what she wants for Christmas. After dinner, I help Crystal with the dishes while Natalie wipes the table.
“Do you want Daddy to put you to bed?”
“YES… read me a story… please, Daddy!”
Dozens of books line the shelves in her room. There are too many to choose from.
“Do you want me to tell you a story I made up?”
She nods eagerly.
“It’s calledThe Sailor and the Siren.” She’s enthralled as I start the story of the beautiful siren who lives on an island far away from the sailor. An island he’d never seen but knew existed.
She scrunches her face. “Daddy, the mistake is sirens aren’t pretty. They’re mean and have big, sharp teeth.”
“Yes. Well, in this story, the siren is a little different. She’s the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world, with golden hair and blue eyes. The sailor was searching and searching all alone on the big sea. He was looking for a secret island. The one he saw in his dreams.”
“I like this story.”
“One night, a big storm comes and breaks up his boat, and he’s in the water, drowning.” Natalie’s eyes widen in fear.
I give her a gentle pat on the knee, and I mouth,“It’s going to be okay.”
Continuing… “He’s about to give up when he hears the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, singing to him.”
“Sirens do sing to sailors.” She nods in approval.
“So, he swims as hard as he can in the direction of her voice. For hours and hours until his arms get too tired to move anymore.”
Natalie moves the blanket over her eyes.
I’d better wrap up.
“He starts to sink when, through the surface of the water, he sees her face. She dives to him, pulling him out. Then she kisses him. They live happily ever after.”
She claps, bouncing up and down. “That’s a good story. I like nice sirens.”
“Me too, Sugar Muffin.”
I tuck her in and get ready to turn out the light.
“Daddy?” Her face is all scrunched up. “My tummy feels weird.”
I walk back over and sit on the edge of the bed. She’s too young to understand her emotions. How they rise, surge, and fall like the sea. I take her hand and smile.
“What’s that?” she asks, her eyes wide and curious.
“This?” I glance down and lift the shell pendant. “It’s my security blanket.”
“It’s pretty. Was it the siren’s?”
“Yes.” I take the band off and put it around her neck.
“And now it’s yours.”
I tuck her in and watch her fall asleep.
When I rejoin Crystal in the living room, she’s fixed us two teas and lit a soft candle. It smells like a morning sea breeze.
