23 December 2009 Ella

Ella is beautiful in her own way. And beautiful in every other way too. She has an incredible skin that is its own colour. Her hair is gold. Locks of it belong in the casket alongside the franckincense and the myrrh. Her eyes twinkle. It would be a twinkle of mischief if you didn't see her smile at the same time. It is her smile that makes her eyes smile. And they will make you smile too. There is a dynamo inside her that generates life in perpetuity. She has a puckish way to her, the air of adventure in everything she does. Life is broken up into small parcels of time, many parcels of time. The day is filled with many topics for Ella. Each one is to be fully explored, optimized, and then bounded from. She is full of personality and acutely aware that charm drips off her in large drops. Already at age three she has an inante sense of occasion. Life, to Ella, is a series of moments that are full of theatre and each deserves to be given an appropriate performance. Her maxim is care-free freedom which she carefully guards. This, she takes quite seriously. Ella picks and chooses when she wants to demonstrate that she is completely on top of the game. She can play dumb just to demonstrate that she is smart enough to know how and when to play dumb. And then, when you least expect it, she will whip out some remarkable piece of memory or insight or vocabluary that you would not have pegged her for. She twirls and whirls her way around, consciously oblivious to all the attention she can create. She will enthrall you and captivate you, and then melt your heart. Well, in the very least she does that to her dad.