Put together a musical playlist of songs that describe your life, including what you hope your future entails.
“O’ my! What is this?” the grandmother peered into the bird cage, surprise written across her face. “Oh no!” She stands straight and calls all the maids of the house.They come running; one holding a broom, one holding a wet sponge, and the cook, spatula on his hand.
They stand in front of the lady, wipe their sweat and ask eagerly “Yes ma’am. Do you need anything or did we forget something?”
The grandmother adjusts her gold-colored eyeglass on her small nose and looks at the maids “Look at the cage, why is there a big black crow inside the cage? Where is the pretty and sweet singing parrot?”
All of them lift their eyes at the cage and open their mouths in disbelief. They chimed together “We do not know. We would never do this type of mischievous thing.”
Daphne comes running to her grandmother and pulls the corner of her grandmother’s dress. She leans close to her grandmother “I have to tell you something. In the morning when I came to the porch the cage was empty and I know you love the parrot so much and I want you always to be happy. It took me a long time but I caught this black crow and locked him inside the cage so that he can sing songs for you! Now I want to see a big smile on your face!.”
Daphne wraps her arms around her grandmother in a tight hug. Her grandmother stands dumbfounded at the idea of the crow replacing the parrot, but then bends down and kisses Daphne’s cheek “Yes, that is very nice of you but the crow cannot sing, he does not have that sweet voice of a parrot so we will let him go and get a parrot.” She gently holds Daphne’s small hands in her own and walks down the stairs.
Daphne grows up with the love of her grandmother and grandfather. She is the princess of the glass castle.
Daphne sits in the far corner of the University library. There are four psychology books on the table in front of her. She reads some pages from each of the books and moves over to the side to write her notes. After some time she stops writing, leans back in the chair and looks around. Most of the students have already left, but she has to prepare for the upcoming presentation on her research paper. She wants a higher rank in the class. Daphne lifts her eyes at the big wall clock- it is almost 8:45 in the night. The library will close in fifteen minutes, so she bends her head and starts writing.
On a beautiful February Spring day, after returning from the University, Daphne closes the big cherrywood door to her study. She slides in to a chair and pulls her diary to her. She opens the first page and writes I love the ground under his feet, air over his head and everything he touches and every word he says. My love is like the foliage in the woods. Her love resembles the eternal rock beneath: a source of little visible delight. Then she drops the pen on the table, re-reads the lines, hides her face behind her right palm and smiles a gorgeous smile.She is in love.
“Can we watch one more episode of Simpsons, please mom and then afterwards sister can watch the Little Mermaid” begs Daphne’s son.
“Sorry. No more TV. We will go to the library, pick up some storybooks that you like and on the way back we can go with our sled to the big hill close to your elementary school and have lots of fun. So go put on your jackets and let us carry both the big blue and the purple bag. Also in the evening we will go for a bike ride with dad.” Says Daphne to her kids and switches off the TV.
Today is Sunday; a bright and beautiful Sunday. Daphne drives to the gym for her favorite workout routine- the Body Combat class- with her favorite instructor. The instructor is so energetic that the class becomes lively as she steps in. Daphne is a little shy but she enjoys every bit of this class; the jabs, the punches, sidekicks, back-kicks, jump squats, the million jumping jacks, everything! She parks the car in a nice spot under a big tree, locks the car doors and walks into the gym with a huge smile on her face.
The sudden ring of the phone startles Daphne. She grabs the phone from her purse and answers, “Yes, this is she. Yes I am free on this weekend. How many muffins? Sure I will bake those and make them ready for the charity event sale. Thanks for reminding me. Bye.” She hangs up the phone, tucks her hair behind the ear and opens her laptop to finish her short story.