There were days when I thought I’d never hear Gabi sing. Days when I sat on the floor of my kitchen holding her while she cried and screamed and I cried and screamed on the inside. I didn’t know what she wanted and she couldn’t tell me.

Mothers are supposed to have a handbook somewhere that tells them how to know if there is something wrong with their children. Or at least there should be a digital screen on the kid’s forehead giving you a diagnosis you can google. Ear infection. Pink eye. Tummy Ache. Faking It. Whatever. Though I’m sure if Gabriella’s screen read “Apraxia” I would have hit and freaked out. The road to the diagnosis was a long one. MRI’s and a phone call the day after Christmas three years ago let us know that Gabi had grey tissue in the speech and language section of her brain. “This is probably the result of trauma in utero. We see the same kind of thing in stroke victims.”

A stroke in my baby. And the long term prognosis for speech was a little unsure. First of all she was delayed, second, her brain was adding sounds in words that made it next to impossible to understand her when she DID talk.

Word by word.
Excercise by exercise.
Specialist to specialist.
Fear to fear.
Prayer to prayer.

And now this…..

“Gabi, baby. Sing Mama that song about the stars.”

“What one?”

“Angels and stars”

And then the most precious voice.

“On the first day of Kissmuss. Dere were stars up in the air. Stars up in the air. What a lovely SIGHT! WHAT A LOVELY SIGHT. On the first day of Kissmuss. Dere were ANGELS ev-eywhere, ANGELS ev-eywhere! What a LOVELY SIGHT! What a LOVELY SIGHT to see…”

What a lovely gift, Lord. What a wonderful gift.

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