Chapter Ten
Sweden, 1861
In all the history of the world, there has never been a more beautiful babe born than the girl born on that calm winter's morn. At least, that was Papa Daaé's insistence upon first meeting his daughter, Christine, after nearly two days of his wife's laboring. Never in his life had he seen a baby girl with such a full head of golden blond hair or eyes as clear and blue as the ice that covered the creek outside their humble home.
"She's perfect, darling," he told his wife as he placed the babe upon her chest. "Absolutely beautiful, just like her mother." Mama Daaé blushed and smiled up at her husband.
"Come now, husband. I must look positively horrendous."
"You've never been more beautiful to me than you are right now, dear one." He cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her forehead.
"Oh, what shall we name her?" Mama Daaé asked. She was smiling more brilliantly than her husband had ever seen before. Anything she desired, he would gladly have given.
"You said you were considering a name last week, what was it?" he asked. "I'm happy to call her by whatever name you find suits her best."
For a moment she was pensive, before smiling up at her husband and saying, "I like the name Christine. After your mother."
"Christine Daaé. It suits her perfectly," Papa Daaé proclaimed as he wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders.
Little Christine knew nothing but love and warmth for those first precious months of life. As she grew, so did the love her parents had for her.
Every evening, she fell asleep to the strains of an old family lullaby played on her father's violin, and every morning she woke to the soothing voice of her mother.
For a short, blissful time, their family was perfect and happy.