The evening comes with jammies toes and scrubbed clean damp hair. It comes with cuddles and stacks of worn old bedtime boardbooks friends, baskets of familiar poems and pictures. I love the freshness of the pages with new sets of listeners. Cherished mittens and bowls full of mush become new again and Mr. McGregor seems to just about cacth that rabbit this time….
We lay together and talk, reviewing the day…mulling things over and tucking in questions and worries and wonderings. All the while, sounds of Dad’s voice can be heard from down the hallway. He recites pages of tales the longer-limbed set longs for which will one day meet these tiny ears. But not yet, not this evening. We will curl and cuddle and count the 24 blackbirds again just to be sure. And I count these moments of Life. Yes, I behold the Light of evening.
O Gladsome Light of the Holy Glory of the Immortal Father, Heavenly, Holy, Blessed Jesus Christ. Having come to the setting of the sun and beheld the light of evening. We praise the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, God. At all times Thou art worthy of praise, O Son of God and Giver of Life, therefore all the world glorifies Thee! (Vespers service)