“We are learning about the planets. We have to draw our favorite planet and write a page. I picked Pluto because Thomas says that is the farthest one away from the sun, and I thought that was sad, and I chose Pluto because everything is frozen there and it is cold. And because it is the smallest.”

“Oh my God, you’re giving a school report, you freak,” said Thomas, but we were both laughing; tears were running down my face.

“I want to wish everyone in the world Happy New Year. My wishes are that I will get to ride a horse, get a bike, the Vietnam War would end, and that my grandmother’s cataracted eyes would get better.”

“You’re next, Thomas,” said Beatrice, who was now sitting by the machine, too.

The young Thomas cleared his throat just like Dad had. While I had practically shouted down the microphone, Thomas was whispering, and we strained to hear him.

“My name is Thomas Gallagher from Ardmore, Pennsylvania. I am eight years old and am the only boy in my family. I am in the third grade at St. Colman’s Catholic school. In 1973 I wish for a telescope, and in 1973 I also wish to go fishing with my dad and maybe catch a fish or to go in a boat with him in a lake or the ocean.”

I wanted to make a joke but didn’t trust myself to speak. His wishes made me sad.

The tape kept rolling, and Marie had already started her recitation. “I’m Marie Gallagher. I’m nine and the eldest of all the children.”

“So there,” said Thomas now.

“I’m in fourth grade. I like art and music and gym class. My wish this year is that my younger brother and sisters would behave and stop annoying me but most of all that I would get to meet the Beatles.”

“So Marie,” I said.

“I am now going to sing a song with my dad, Martin Gallagher.”

I don’t think we’d ever listened back after the day itself. I remembered the ritual but not the recordings. I’d never heard my dad sing.