Yesterday we played at our neighborhood park. It was cold (in the 30s) but sunny and we needed to get outside. There's nothing like a little sand and snow play.

As we were finishing at the park, Baby Anne decided she was done. Perhaps it was the occasional bitingly cold breeze. Perhaps she was just hungry. But by the time we got to the car, her cry had worked its way up to a scream.

It is a four minute drive from the park to our house and we prepared ourselves for four minutes of screaming. But on the off chance it might work, I began singing You Are My Sunshine. Anne is particularly responsive to music and she has a special fondness for You Are My Sunshine. At one of Clare's story times, the librarian led the children in singing You Are My Sunshine and Anne smiled the largest smile I had ever seen her smile.

As we drove home from the park, the song seemed to work its magic again. Anne quieted slowly. As I repeated the song for about the third time, Meg chimed in. I must admit that my initial response was annoyance. I was afraid Meg was going to break the spell I had over Anne and Anne would begin screaming again. But I held that annoyance in and adjusted my key to Meg's key and we kept singing. Soon Clare joined in and we sang You Are My Sunshine over and over again. Anne quietly listened.

I found myself nearly moved to tears at the sound of my little girls' voices singing to soothe their baby sister. I realized how close I came to missing that moment and I was so grateful I had not let my initial reaction ruin it. With the stress of a new baby in the family, it is so easy to respond with "Hush, don't wake the baby!" So often, the big sisters are just trying to help, while we are just trying to keep our sanity. What a gift those little bright voices were to me yesterday.

Clare takes great comfort in books. You can barely make her out in the picture to the left, but this is a typical scene: Clare snuggled under a blanket asleep with a pile of books on top of her. This past weekend, she began running a slight fever (quite unusual for her). Her solution to "being sick" was to pile fifteen books on top of my bed, situate herself in the midst of all the pillows and allow my husband and me to take turns reading to her. 

Clare only goes to preschool two days a week, so on the mornings when Meg is at school but Clare is not, we often find ourselves at the library. On Mondays we might go to the Shirlington branch of the Arlington County library just to read books and check out a few for home. On Wednesdays and Fridays we go to the Central Library for storytime. 

The storytimes at Arlington County Public Library are superb. We have tried numerous storytimes at various bookstores, but few come close to the excellent library presentations. The librarians use music, rhymes and even flannelgraphs to keep the children focused on the book theme of the day. Clare, who can be painfully shy at times, has come alive in these sessions. When we first began attending storytime, she would sit in my lap and rarely participate in any way. Now she sits on her own carpet square, sings along with the songs, attempts any actions that accompany the rhymes and songs, and never hesitates to yell out a response to the librarian's questions. I now watch her from the side of the room (where I attend to Baby Anne) and feel proud of each tiny step of independence she takes. 

I hope these storytimes will remain special to Clare for a long time. Meg has already deemed storytime for babies and refuses to go no matter how much we try to explain that there are different storytimes for each age group. I hope Clare won't be influenced by that. Periodically Clare will say, "I wish I lived in the Hundred Acre Wood." She very much wants to turn our back patio into Mr. McGregor's garden. In the library she visits all her favorite books: Madeline and the Cats of Rome and the McDuff books. Books are a comfort to her sensitive little soul and I hope they remain a comfort throughout her life.