He heard a beautiful song at school, during quiet time. And he thought of it while driving through the desert to Las Vegas, and he thought of it again tonight while laying in bed.

Mom I have to sing it for you, you have to know what it sounds like.

Alright honey, go ahead.

Ok, look away now and I will sing.

So I turned my head and my son began to hum.

Every note was perfect. Like he had been reciting the song in his head for weeks, practicing for this moment. There were no words, but his instrumental didn’t need any. Even his sister, fidgeting moments before, was entranced by the music coming from her brother.

I had to peak. I knew he would be furious and stop singing if he saw me look over, but I just had to see the look on his face while this gorgeous piece of music came out of his body.

Slowly I looked at my feet instead of the wall. Then back at the wall. Then back down at my feet. I glanced once more up and down and quickly flashed my eyes in his direction.

It didn’t matter that I had looked. His eyes were sealed shut. Tight. He was concentrating on the song, his song, and clearly lost in it’s sound.

I looked up again and just stared at him, dumbfounded. Eyes sealed shut and fingers moving in the air like he was conducting an orchestra, my son sang to me.

So that’s how it goes. Do you know that song, Mom?

No honey, I don’t think I do. But it was wonderful.

I really like it Mom, I think it might be the most beautiful song in the world.

I would have to agree my love. I would have to agree.