Hushed, like a morning before sunrise, grace floods in without threat. A sudden flutter of piano keys cues a story to unravel onto something so much more interesting than pages of paper. To eerie tunes and haunting hums, she brushes, feather-like, across my eyes— a pinnacle of innocence that humbles me to the warmest tears. She does not speak but tells me everything. So beautifully, with pointed toes and arms as weightless as summer clouds, my imagination falls to her tiny mercy. The little girl in the light blue dress, who became my favorite storyteller.