The Little House

This book must be speaking to my Turtle in some way.  It is all she wants to talk about.  She tells me the story over and over and reads it over and over. 

"Mommy, the city comes closter (sic) and closter to the little house.  And Mommy, the little house doesn't like the city.  It makes her worried and sad and nervous.  Her windows are cracked and she's not smiling any more. She wants to see the dandy-flowers.  She can't see the moon and the stars anymore -- only the sun.  The city is loud.  It shakes her.  Nobody is taking care of her.   She is so, so, so sad and so, so, so worried.  She wants to be in the country.  See, Mommy?  Look at her sad face.

See, then the granddaughter comes and the carrier moves her to the country.  Then she is happy again.  Then it is peaceful in the night.  She is happy that it is peaceful in the night.  She can see the dandy flowers and the stars and the moon . . . See, Mommy, see?  She is smiling again.  She is happy now.  And she is not curious about the city.  She is not nervous any more.  She is not sad and worried.  She is all happy and all better.  She loves the country, where it is peaceful in the night."

Then, sometimes after a little pause she will say, shaking her head sadly:
"Mommy, the country has clean water.  Nana and Pop-pop live in the country.  They have clean water.  . .   We don't live in the country.   We don't have clean water.  We have dirty water."  

And it makes me smile a little with a lump in my throat to listen to her. . .