Cinnamon Toast and Tea

Cinnamon Toast and Tea

Darkness cuddled around the sleeping child, holding her in warm cozy arms as she snoozed dreaming youthful, playful dreams. The house was quiet, the mummers and mumbles of conversation long since silenced by breathing and rustling of covers. It was night, the best night, a new moon, clear sky, a cinnamon toast and tea night.
“Jessie, Jessie” a low voice whispered as a gentle shake woke her from her slumbers. Wiping her eyes she rolled over, remembering at the last second to not roll too far, least she fall from her perch on the bed-in-the-wall.
“Daddy?” she whispered back “what’s wrong?”
“You have to come see this” her daddy, her hero, murmured as he lifted her up in his big strong arms and carried her out of the room. Her sisters snuggled sleeping in their beds unaware of the adventure that was happening around them. “See what daddy?” She whispered, her excitement wiping away the last cobwebs of sleep from her brain. Giggling under her breath at the thought of what they would be missing.
Her daddy wrapped her in his fuzzy, faded, flannel sweater; the one she loved to sleep with that carried that comforting smell of her hero. He carried her up the stairs and outside into the arms of the night. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Her daddy had not turned on any lights, nor brought a flashlight to guide their way. She looked around, felt the cool mountain breeze sliding through the trees, the sound, soothing, reminiscent of the waves crashing on a beach. Her naked toes wiggled, tickled by the fingers of wind that passed by. Her daddy placed her down gently on the cold, hard asphalt as he settled next to her. “Lay back and look up,” he whispered.
Before her eyes spread this glorious velvet canvas, sprinkled with thousands of glittering, sparkling diamonds. “Wow” she breathed; somehow it felt necessary to speak in whispers while looking at these shards of heaven, twinkling down upon them. They lay, side by side, her daddy pointing out the heroes and creatures, the stories in the stars. Orion, the great hunter, for eternity chasing the seven beautiful sisters, the Pleiades, across the wheel of the sky. Tarus, the brawny bull, intervening on Artimis’ order, his red eye gleaming among the drops of white. Cassiopeia, the vain queen who put her daughters up against Aphrodite in a contest of beauty, and in punishment was thrown upside down into the heavens.
The blacktop soaked up her body heat, stealing it away until shivers made her body twitch. “Are you cold, pumpkin?” Her daddy whispered, turning his head to check on her. “Yeth” she lisped out, her teeth chattering against each other. Her hero scooped her up in his warm strong arms, holding her close to his heart. Over his shoulder she took a final peek at the winking drops of light. They snuck back into the house, tiptoeing across the creaky, groaning, floorboards to the kitchen. One small light illuminated the kitchen as her daddy set her down at the sturdy brown table and tucked the warm fuzzy sweater closer around her.
As she watched he filled the shiny black teapot with water, the rushing, shushing, sound of the water filling the pot echoed through the silence. He placed it carefully on the stove and clicked of the knob so the coil ignited. She listened as he started to sing, his voice reminding her of her favorite singer, Raffi. “Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain, telling me just what a fool I’ve been…” Curled up in her chair she was warm, and cozy, fighting sleep; it’s silken voice calling her to bed. She blinked.
DING! Her eyes flew open. Her dad was still singing and moving around the kitchen. Toast had popped up, to be spread with golden, creamy goodness and sprinkled with a shower of silver and bronze delight. WHHHHHHHoooooooo! The clear crisp whistle of the hot steam shooting through the kettle was silenced as her father lifted it up and poured the bubbling, steaming, liquid into two brightly colored mugs. The tails of two tea sachets peeked over the edge. She uncurled herself from the chair and padded into the kitchen. Peering over the edge of the counter she looked at her hero’s handy work. “Grab some milk!” He whispered as he pulled on the tea tails to take them to the trash. She turned to the refrigerator and pulled open the door—the cold air making her curl her toes along the floor. She brought him the milk and he put it on the counter and lifted her up so she could watch. As she watched the milk created creamy clouds in the depths of the mug. Handing her a spoon he cautioned “Careful, now” as she shakily spooned in the glistening grains. He swung her off the counter and gave her the plate of cinnamon toast as he carried the steaming mugs to the table. As she clambered up onto the chair he went to the bookshelf and brought out the BIG book of the Universe. They flipped through the pages as they crunched on their toast and sipped their tea. The illustrations and myths about the planets and stars starting to swim before her eyes. “Ok, pumpkin, time for bed.” “NOOO!” She whispered back, “I’m not tired yet, PROMISE!” Shaking his head knowingly they carried their cups to the sink to be quickly washed. He scooped her up in his strong arms and carried her back downstairs to her cozy bed—careful not to wake her slumbering sisters. She crawled back under the covers; cool now that they’d been empty so long. Giving him one last kiss goodnight, “Night daddy! Thank you!” she whispered. “Good night, sweetheart.” He replied tucking her covers closer around her. She snuggled back into their soft depths and closed her eyes as sleep washed over her—her dreams filled with the stories and myths of long ago.