Late at night. A dark, cold night.
"Mommy." Softly.
Silence.
"Mom-MY!" Louder, more persistent.
"Yes, honey." Sleepy and muffled.
"Mommy, I'm SCARED!" Small and frightened.
"It's alright, sweetheart. I'm right here. Don't be afraid." More awake and alert.
Silence.
"Mommy." Once again.
"Yes, honey, I'm right here." Gently.
"But, I'm STILL scared." Straightforward and honest.
Footsteps. Feet paddling on the hallway floor.
"I'm coming to you." A promise.
Creak of the mattress.
Smoothing and fluffing of the blanket.
Kiss. Hug. Snuggle.
"Can you keep me company for a LONG, LONG time?" Hopeful, expectant.
"Sure, sweety. Sleep, my princess." Kiss again.
Comfortable silence. Heavy breathing.
Creak of the mattress.
"Do you have to go back now?" Awakened. Candid.
"Yes, honey. Sleep tight." Soothing. Another kiss.
Footsteps in the hall. Heavy breathing.
Comfortable silence.
It's my three year old daughter waking in the middle of the night, frightened from the darkness, scared from a bad dream.
But it's also any one of us, anxiously waking up in the cold nights of our lives, fearful of uncertainties, apprehensive about our personal nightmares, calling out in our own small voices, expectantly and knowingly.
To our Creator.
our parents Our parents are our first gods. And so it is, a mirroring event, to call for one's Mother, to call for one's Father, in the dark night, to be a terrified child, to need reassurance, and to have that very special someone come.
Lucky the child who has at least one parent who comes in times of night terrors.
For those who don't, perhaps the journey of soul towards that loving Parent differs. I don't know.
A beautiful analogy that is very true.