Then Pa began to play again the song about Old Grimes. But he did not sing the words he had sung when Ma was making cheese. These words were different. Pa's strong, sweet voice was softly singing:
"Shall auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Shall auld acquaintance be forgot,
And the days of auld lang syne?
And the days of auld lang syne, my friend
And the days of auld lang syne,
Shall auld acquaintance be forgot,
And the days of auld lang syne?"
When the fiddle had stopped singing Laura called softly, "What are days of auld lang syne, Pa?"
"They are the days of a long time ago, Laura," Pa said. "Go to sleep, now."
But Laura lay awake a little while, listening to Pa's fiddle softly playing and to the lonely sound of the wind in the Big Woods. She looked at Pa sitting on the bench by the hearth, the fire-light gleaming on his brown hair and beard and glistening on the honey-brown fiddle. She looked at Ma, gently rocking and knitting.
She thought to herself, "This is now."
She was glad that the cosy house, and Pa and Ma and the fire-light and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.
(Little House in the Big Woods, Laura Ingalls Wilder)
One of my fondest memories of when I was young is sitting on my dad's lap with my sister and Dad reading the Little House on the Prairie books. I've started this ritual with Nede now. Last night we finished the Little House in the Big Woods. I love how the book ends. And I love that this is now. I want to enjoy that now is now, it's not a long time ago, it actually may one day be forgotten but for now, it's not a long time again and I love now!