It’s Friday (you might already know this — why do I tell you this every week?), and I’m meeting up with the community of Five Minute Friday at Lisa-Jo Baker’s Tales from a Gypsy Mama for some free writing. Here are the rules: follow the prompt, no extreme editing, write for five minutes flat and encourage the person who linked up just before you. Write with us?
Today’s word is VOICE.
{GO}
Last night, J and I made tuna melts — her favorite. We cut up homemade pickles and stirred them in with the mayonnaise and the flaky fish. At her suggestion, we chopped pickled dill and pickled carrots, scattering this smattering on the bread for her, her papa and me “because I’m an adventure eater,” J said.
Sisters received theirs the normal way — just tuna — because that’s what they like.
Mid-way through our prep, J ran downstairs and came up with chef hats. One for her, one for me.
As I cut veggies for sides, J observed, “Lala has her own message on your phone. When can Sici and I have one?”
I was surprised that J knew my outgoing voice mail greeting held the voice of her 4-year-old little sister. Perhaps she’d listened to it on speaker with one of her grandmas as they waited to leave a message for me.
“Do you want to make my greeting?” I asked, pulling melts out of the oven, cheese glistening, edges beginning to turn too-dark brown.
She nodded, eyes wide. “Yeah.”
“OK, sweetie, ready? I’m going to press record.”
“Hi, you’ve reached Ashley Larkin,” she began, a slight giggle in her mouth. “Please leave a message. Thank you. Bye.”
“Let me hear it, let me hear it,” she said.
I played the greeting back. Her voice was soft.
“That’s me?” she asked. “But I sound like a baby.”
“I always think that when I hear my voice, too,” I said. “Our voices usually sound bigger inside us.”
J pulled cups out of the cupboard, filled them with water, snapped the lids on and pushed straws through the red lids’ holes.
She arranged drinks one by one on the wooden tray that usually holds magazines, grasped both handles and walked downstairs to serve sisters, her chef’s hat trailing through the doorway.
{STOP}
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
Sweet Jewel, Adventure Eater! ;) how can you not Love that! The Voice – what an interesting story you illustrated today’s topic with Ashley. And besides just the sheer “cuteness” of this little domestic scene between you two preparing dinner in chefs caps is what seems to be a takeaway message … Our voice inside us sounds Bigger than it truly IS. I’m mulling that…maybe it’s especially our own “silent” voice inside us that appears bigger (with more authority) than it ought?
Isn’t she fantastic? One thing I love about all this writing is the multiple ways people can understand these words…and I love your takeaway. I think I might elaborate on it next week, but I was thinking so much of how our big voices inside can match our ability to make an impact on our “outside.” Especially with J. Her big girl hat, her placing cups on a tray, her adventure eating, her way of serving beyond her years.
“I always think that when I hear my voice, too,” I said. “Our voices usually sound bigger inside us.”
letting this roll around in my mind a bit. my natural children and most of those I teach are LOUD, plenty so, UNTIL… the minute they are yielded the floor or the mic. I wonder if most of us, when we realize what we say will be heard, have that tendency to be softer than we appraise ourselves. Banter, chatter seem easily delivered in largesse…but when the circus stops, our name is called – attention is given everything changes…
You’re so right, Kim. Yes. Loud, loud until everyone is listening — then it’s hard to speak with volume/authority. Why? As if we’re afraid we’ll be judged for being too full of ourselves? Too big? Thanks for your thoughts today.
When we hear our voices out in the world we tremble with joy and fear and excitement that we are part of this big world. Oh the heart of a child…come to Me as children…My heart flutters at the excitement of the new in her world and her discovery. May she hear Him today and be brave and strong. I love being in your home and in your world through your story telling. HUGGING from afar.
Yes, the heart of this child — she delights me. J and little sister keep coming downstairs now, as I type, as we watch the World Series. First, they’re swimmers with goggles and caps fashioned from bandanas, then they both have broken arms in slings, then they’re fairies with superpowers. She is becoming braver and stronger with each passing year. Thank you for your prayers for my sweet girl, our family. Hugs backatcha.
Love, love, love it and you!
Love you, Auntie!
Love this, Ashley! Nice how your conversation sends the mind whirling on the topic of our voices are bigger in us. Such a sweet exchange with your daughter. Nothing like Mommy time. :)
You’re right, Vanessa. Nothing like it. Thanks for your comment. :-)
Nice post.
Thanks so much for your comment.
This is so sweet Ashley…I love the joy, creativity, & excitement J has for life & think its so cool she is your “adventure eater”!
It is cool, isn’t it? She takes such pride in that fact. :-)
“Our voices usually sound bigger in us” – how true this is… so much packed into that little statement. Your J sounds like a sweet, darling little character :-)
Oh, she is, Amber. So funny, so utterly unique in such a small, unlikely package.
Stopping by from FMF. What a cute story. I could picture the whole scene with your descriptive words. Lovin the unique child who wants to wear a chef hat while serving the sandwhiches. That sounds like something I would do :)
Thanks so much, Rebekah. So you’re a bit of a character, too, eh? :-)
I love getting a glimpse of your girls through stories told from your loving perspective.
They are such a beautifully unique bunch. :)