"Then younger than springtime am I . . ."
Morning, August 6, 1937
It was going to be a beautiful day; just the morning alone was enough indication of that. Rare for Austria, the sky was completely cloud free, and the sunrise over the lake was absolutely gorgeous. Georg watched it from the balcony, and gave a contented sigh. He wished Maria were here to watch it with him, but he reminded himself that there would be plenty more opportunities to do so once they were married. He couldn't wait to know the sensation of waking up with her in his arms, to watch the morning lights playing on her features, her skin of cream and roses, her golden hair . . .
Sighing, he walked back inside and finished dressing, reminding himself that in only nine days, they would be one.
After he was all ready, Georg left his room and headed for his study. It was too early for breakfast, so he decided to kill some time by reading a good book (he couldn't look at the morning paper today – he would not tolerate any bad news this day, for good reason).
But when he opened his study door, Georg met quite the surprise. There, on his desk, were seven little sailboats. Each was a different color and slightly different style, and he could tell even from a distance which of his children had made each. In awe, he stepped closer to look at them. He saw that, indeed, his children had made the little model boats themselves. The actual boats, were shaped out of clay and then sculpted and painted. Sticks made the masts, and pieces of scrap fabric made the sail – fabric from a certain pair of drapes. He laughed out loud.
Georg had much fun, as he placed each lovingly on his shelves, looking more closely at the boats. On each boat they had written their names, from Liesl's pretty script to Gretl's clumsy capital letters. The colors of the boats were all different, too, showing their personalities: Liesl a pretty lavendar and white, Frederick dark blue and red, Louisa's forest green and brown, Kurt's orange and black, Brigitta's yellow and light blue, Marta's many shades of pink, and Gretl had painted with each color of the rainbow spectrum.
Also on the desk was a big card, where he could tell each of his children had left their artistic mark. Opening it, he saw written in huge bold letters: HAPPY BIRTHDAY FATHER! And each child had signed their names, along with some words of love.
Georg should not have been surprised when he felt his throat constricting and his vision blurring. What he'd put his children through the past four years was something he felt he could never forgive himself for, and yet through it all they had still loved him, with all of their hearts they had and still did . . .
When breakfast time came – and Georg had composed himself again – Georg left his study and walked into the front hall. At the same time, he saw his children coming down the stairs. Both parties stopped at the sight of each other. Georg took in the sight of all seven of them, with excited and nervous apprehension on their faces; they knew he'd seen their gifts.
Moved once again as he recalled the sight of those seven homemade sail boats, Georg just smiled and motioned for his children to home to him with his head. All seven children smiled and immediately ran to their father, whose arms had opened to receive them.
Such a precious moment is hard to describe, and is best left to the imagination. Each child was kissed and held and thanked individually, as well as the father once trying to hug all of his children at once. There were more than a few tears shed and many smiles and laughs. Finally, Georg looked at all of his children surrounding him, and said in a choked voice, "Thank you, my children. Thank you so much." And it wasn't just the boats and card he was thanking them for.
His gaze then turned to the staircase, and his breath was taken away. There, on the middle of the steps, stood Maria, who was smiling down on her family with happy tears in her eyes. She was wearing that blue dress he loved so much, the first time she'd worn it since the night they'd confessed their love and agreed to marry. She looked so beautiful standing there, and he gave a silent prayer of gratitude, like he'd done every day for weeks, that she was here.
Both made their way towards each other, until Georg stood in front of Maria, who stood on the last step, standing a little taller than him. She said nothing as yet, but kept smiling.
Georg lifted a hand to wipe away a stray tear from her cheek, murmuring, "Angels shoudn't cry, unless they are tears of pure happiness."
"And they are," said Maria softly, bringing her own hands up to frame his face. Her whole being radiated love. "Happy birthday, my captain."
This was the first time he'd ever heard those simple words of congratulations spoken with true sincerity and love, really meaning it. She was really saying, "I'm so happy you're alive and in my life." And he could only feel the same. In response, he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around. She laughed into his mouth and held him just as tightly.
When he set her down, the sound of "Aww"s and giggles made both of them break the spell. Both had completely forgotten that the children were in the front hall. While a very embarrassed Maria hid her red face into his chest, Georg said firmly but with a smile, "Dining room, now!"
Still giggling, all of the children quickly went into the dining room, and Georg lifted Maria's face up. It was as beet red as it had been the night they'd first danced. "They might as well get used to seeing moments like that – I can't always keep away from you, you know."
Maria managed to roll her eyes but she still smiled.
"Now," said Georg, authoritatively but with that twinkle in his eye that made him look like a naughty schoolboy. "As the birthday boy, I would like for the most beautiful woman in the house to escort me in to breakfast."
"All right," said Maria, and made to leave his side. "Now I just have to look for the most beautiful woman in the house."
But Georg did not let go of her, and pulled her closer to give her another powerful kiss that told her not to dispute the wishes of the birthday boy.
She seemed to get the message, for a moment later he and Maria entered the dining room arm in arm.
It proved to be the perfect start to what would be a perfect day for Georg. Even after nearly two scores of years on Earth, Georg could not recall a more wonderful birthday. He and his family went up to Maria's mountain, the same place she had first taught the children to sing. He'd never been up there before, and it was his specific request that he be taken there. The family had a picnic and played games. When it was a few hours before dinner, Georg and Max went out for a drink and walk together – they had no other choice, since Maria and the children had locked themselves in the kitchen, cooking up something special for him on his special day. He had no doubts as to what it would be, but even Georg was unprepared for the rich chocolate cake his fiancée and children had cooked for him. They knew him too well – he had the biggest sweet tooth in the family. After dinner and many pieces of chocolate cake, the family all sat in the drawing room and sang songs, as was their custom. The children did most of it, wanting to show off for their father and make him smile.
At bedtime, Maria led the children upstairs to bed, while Georg decided to walk off his three pieces of chocolate cake before his alone time with Maria, the part of the day he'd been most looking forward to.
This time, it was Georg who was sitting on the stone bench and Maria who approached him with a "Hello." But now the circumstances were nothing but joyous. Georg smiled and held out his hands to her. She immediately came forward and took them both. He guided her down onto the bench and held her close, not finding the words to describe his happiness.
"Did you have a good day?" asked Maria, after some content moments of silence.
"No," replied Georg. Maria's head shot up, but before she could look offended or sad, he amended, "That is not the proper word. I would say somewhere between wonderful and perfect." He spoke truthfully: he couldn't quite call the day perfect because he couldn't yet begin and end the day with her the way he so wanted to. But he thought it best not to tell her this and make her blush or uncomfortable.
Maria seemed satisfied with the answer and kissed his cheek. Pulling away, she suddenly got a nervous look in her eyes, which he noticed.
"What's that look for?" he asked gently.
Maria took a deep breath, got up from the bench and went towards the tree near the bench. He saw her bend down and pick something up – something she'd obviously put down before he'd spotted her. She was carrying a small package neatly wrapped in pretty paper, which she held out for him.
Georg took the small package and unwrapped it carefully. Inside the box was a pair of cufflinks. Looking closely at them, Georg could see that these were a true work of art. They weren't new, but were cleaned and polished well, so they looked as good as new. Engraved in the precious metal of each was an Edelweiss image. Smiling, Georg looked up at Maria's face, which showed her hope of him liking them. "Help me put them on, my dear."
Maria sat down on the bench beside him and helped him with his task, removing the ones he was wearing already and putting in the new ones. "Where did you find these? They are absolutely beautiful."
"I'm very glad you like them," said Maria, relieved. "And . . . they belonged to my father."
Now he was very surprised, and looked at her wide-eyed. "Your father? Didn't you tell me your parents died when you were Marta's age?"
"Yes, they did. Their valuable possessions were very few: a pearl rosary of my mother's, and the cufflinks of my father. I want you to have these."
Georg had never been so touched by a gift before. She was giving him something so precious – the last tangible memory of her father. "Maria . . ." he began, hesitant to take something like that away from her, but she stopped him by putting a finger to his lips.
"They've been locked away for long enough in a box; they are so beautiful, and deserve to be worn. I know my father would want me to give these to the man that held my heart."
Georg raised a hand to her cheek, getting lost in the beauty of her eyes in the moonlight. "Oh, my love . . ."
She kissed his palm tenderly, and said, "Happy Birthday, Georg."
"Yes, it is," said Georg, before gathering her in his arms again. Stroking her cheek again, he repeated, "Yes it is," before kissing her with all of the love in his heart.
Though he had aged another year, his heart was alive and young and full of love for his beloved in his arms.
A/N: All right, all of my faithful readers, I am now asking for help: I am stuck, as far as inspiration for the next little vignette. For those of you who know the song, you know which lyric comes next, and for those who have been reading, you know the format I've been using. So, please please please tell me your ideas for how the next one on the list should go, because I'm not writing again until I get a good idea, and I have none right now!
I am so grateful to all of you readers, especially those who leave reviews - I appreciate every word I get! And I hope to get some more now - I need ideas!