Little Music Makers
"Now where are my little music makers?" I said to myself as I searched through the bushes next to the house.
"Where did the go?" The sun was setting
it would soon be dark, "they should
be around here somewhere," I muttered
to myself anxiously as I searched frantically before the night swallowed the sun.
I ran around the yard holding my little
cup in one hand, with the other hand I shook the bushes, looking under leaves and the underbrush.
"There you are," I said as I snatched up some dry leaves. I eagerly put my prize in the cup and searched again for one more. There's anothere one trying to get away but I was to fast for it, one quick leap and I had it cupped in my hand.
As a seven year old catching music makers was my favorite thing to do. I put leaves and twigs in my cup and hurried into the house. I rushed to my room and retrieved the foil I hid under the bed; I gently place the foil over the top of the cup inspecting the tiny holes in the foil to make sure there was enough airflow. Satisfied I put the cup under my bed and hurried to wash up for supper.
After an hour of television and a full stomach it was time for a bath and bed.
I had to make sure I got enough sleep so I could get up early enough to release my music makers before I caught the bus for school.
Before leaping into bed I crawled under it to make sure my cup was still there. Satisfied that the foil was secure I got into bed. I snuggled into the covers and got real still.
I waited, listening, straining my ears for the first little scratching sound in the cup. There it is, the scratching, then silence, now came the music, soft at first then louder.
The music drifted up through the stillness of the night and began to lull me to sleep. "Thank you God, for my little music makers," I prayed with a yawn.
As they rubbed their legs together in violin style I drifted into a peaceful sleep knowing that each night God would supply more music makers.
Crickets are the music of the night.
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