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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required One afternoon Martha the mother of Jack, who was in her early eighties, told an amazing story about her son while having coffee in the parlor with her neighbors; it was a weekly gathering to discuss the Holidays, or just gossiping about people they met at the Food Emporium supermarket or at Petco. She gently sat in her Queen Anne chair and leg-crossed, she started to speak. Her gaze went back to Jack's adolescent days when her home echoed with his exciting screams when he played with Snoopy knocking down every toy in his way. She didn't mind, as long as Jack was having fun. She opened her diary and stared everyone in the eyes demanding attention, then her story began while outside the first snowflakes fell on the road rekindling the Christmas spirit. Jack, was such a smart cookie, perhaps a-would-be-genius. He taught himself how to play the piano by watching his mom. He sat right next to her learning simple melodies. His favorite was, " Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star". On Christmas Day while her mum was baking cookies for all the neighborhood kids who would stop by to play with Jack, something wonderful happened. She rushed into the living room and Jack was at the grand piano playing a beautiful melody, she recognized it and was behind herself. " How did you learn how to play? She asked him. " Easy, mom...I have been watching you for days and I have learned all the notes! " " But you are only eight! " She exclaimed by covering her mouth with her hands as Jack giggled, " Mom. aren't you going to give me a hug?" " Of course, I am so proud of you, and I can't wait to tell your dad! " She picked him up and hugged him tenderly like the cutest puppy who needed a reward for his good behavior. " O little Mozart, play your music until I die! " Her joy was overwhelming as if he had fulfilled a prophecy of a prodigious child. A week later another amazing event occurred. Jack wasn't in his room playing with his firefighter truck and police cars, but instead, he was putting notes on the staff. with a black pencil, he filled out the music sheet completely. His song was entitled, " Sweet Mom ". Being a novice, he chose the easiest key, which was C major. But the chords were missing and he hoped that his mom, who was a music teacher, would have put them above the staff to finish the song. He was certain it would be a hit song. Martha realized that her son did what Mozart did: when he wrote his first melody, perhaps out of whim, not knowing that he would become one of the most famous composers of his time. Entering the room, she panicked not seeing Jack playing. " Jack, Jack, where are you? " Her voice vibrated inside the quiet bedroom. " I am here mom, I have a present for you!" " Oh, dear son, you got me worried...I thought you had gone out to play in the backyard with Jim next door! " " No, mommy...I was writing a song for your birthday! " " A song for me?" " Yes, mommy...a song for the sweetest and dearest mom in the entire world! " She glanced at it, and burst into a joyful cry, " Oh my God, you are a composer...another little Mozart! " " Thank you, Mom...I wrote it because I heard that songs make lots of money today, not in Mozart's day! " He exclaimed with childish, unrestrained joy. " Last evening I overheard you telling dad that you needed money to buy a new car, and this bright idea came to me." " Thank you, Jack, I accept this wonderful present from your beautiful heart! " And saying so, she gave him the most tender hug ever, filling up his freckled cheeks with her happy tears.
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