She was glad her two friends had made up. Another time, a little boy brought her his canary because it wouldn't sing.
Momo found that a far harder proposition. She had to sit and listen to the bird for a whole week before it started to trill and warble again.
Momo listened to everyone and everything, to dogs and cats, crickets and tortoises -
even to the rain and the wind in the pine trees - and all of them spoke to her after their own fashion.
Many were the evenings when, after her friends had gone home, she would sit by herself in the middle of the old stone amphitheater,
with the sky's starry vault overhead, and simply listen to the great silence around her.
Whenever she did this, she felt she was sitting at the centre of a giant ear, listening to the world of the stars,
and she seemed to hear soft but majestic music that touched her heart in the strangest way.
On nights like these, she always had the most beautiful dreams.
Those who still think that listening isn't an art should see if they can do it half as well.
THREE: MAKE-BELIEVE
Although Momo listened to grown-ups and children with equal sympathy and attention,
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