Toff is barely five years old when he first heard it.
It was early August and he is with his nanny playing with a big, wooden toy truck polished and painted to perfection. It was a simpler time with simpler pleasures.
Her nanny, an elderly lady named Maria, is a kind woman with soft and gentle hands. She carefully lifted a stringed puppet with those hands and motioned the little boy to look at it, which he did with an obvious delight; it was his favorite thing to watch.
It was two minutes into Ponyo's dance—that was the name he gave to the wooden puppet—when he heard the shouting. He turned to his nanny in confusion and asked her to make the noises stop because it was interfering with Ponyo's dance.
Maria is about to answer when they both heard a cacophony of crashing, more shouting, and loud banging. Now scared, his little hands clutched at Maria's skirt.
"C'mon, mijo. Let's go to your room," the elder woman softly said, gently picking up the scared boy. Toff whimpered, immediately hugging his nanny's neck. He buried his head to the old woman's neck to muffle the bad sounds. Maria made some shushing noises and it calmed him a little, but his hands are still holding on tightly.
They then walked towards the adjacent door specifically built between his room and his playroom. Inside, Maria immediately put little Toff in bed, threw the covers at his little body, and asked his if he wanted a lullaby.
"Sing me my favorite Jesus' birthday song," the boy demanded.
"You mean your favorite Christmas song, mijo?"
"Yes!"
The elder woman chuckled at that but slightly frowned when the shouting and banging outside continues. She smoothed the bed and softly said, "I'll sing it for you, mijo. But promise me that you'll only listen to my voice and ignore the bad sounds you're hearing, okay?"
"Sí!"
The woman smiled warmly at her. She told the little boy to close his eyes before she started singing softly.
🎶A la nanita nana, nanita ella, nanita ella
Mi niño tiene sueño
Bendito sea, bendito sea.
A la nanita nana, nanita ella, nanita ella
Mi niño tiene sueño
Bendito sea, bendito sea...🎶
The gentle voice washed over the boy and he smiled: little Toff love hearing that song especially when his nanny is singing it to him every Jesus' birthday.
🎶Fuentecilla que core,
Clara-y sonora.
Ruiseñor q'en la selva
Cantando lloras.
Callad mientras la cuna se balancea
A la nanita nana, nanita ella...🎶
His young mind is imagining last year when his father, his mother, and his nana is seated at the big sofas in the living room on the night before Jesus' birthday. He was cuddled to his nanny, as usual, as he sip contently on his mug of warm cocoa.
🎶A la nanita nana, nanita ella, nanita ella
Mi niño tiene sueño
Bendito sea, bendito sea.
Florecilla del campo, rosa en capullo
Duerme vida mia, mientras te arullo.
Callad mientras la cuna se balancea
A la nanita nana, nanita ella...🎶
He never cuddled to her parents, only Maria. His father is always approachable though even when she's busy talking to big men in suits; he liked that about him. His papa is a big, strong businessman and he always have time for little Toff.
But not his mama. Never his mama.
She was never near Toff. Not even once. And every time little Toff tries to come closer, his mama makes this weird expression that never fails to make his feel so... unwanted.
YOU ARE READING
Happily Ever After
General Fiction"Happily ever after doesn't exist," you tell yourself. But if love comes around, will you give it a shot?
