It wasn’t only his vision that seemed to have new clarity. Little Pine’s hearing was more alive now, too.
As he walked through the woods, almost drunk with the beauty around him, he found himself thrilling to the calls of the blue jays and crows, to the whistle of the cardinals.
The wisp of a breeze that murmured through the boughs of the pines and spruces carried the wordless stories of the trees.
The air seemed filled with music. He thought of the elves, whistling in the far end of the forest as they worked. And he smiled at the story they’d told him about the ballet of the little tree and how music came from nowhere when she danced.
Little Pine had never felt so alive. It was as if the whole world was awakening around him. He wondered where this wondrous stirring was coming from. Was it the blessing that came with the gift his mother had given him? Or was it something more?
But he let the thought go as soon as it arose. He didn’t need to know where all this beauty came from; it was enough to be living it.
As he neared the lake, Little Pine heard a music that he hadn’t heard in a long while. Yesterday’s rain had filled the lake enough to send its waters over the spillway, and the cascading waters were filled with song. He ran to them and stood on the slope breathing in their music. “The Light is near! It’s nearly here! Let your heart rejoice! It brings us life. It brings us cheer. To the Light, we raise our voice.”
“That’s it!” Little Pine said, right out loud. “I’m being filled by the Light!” No wonder, he thought, that we hold a Festival! No wonder that the whole earth sings!