Monday, February 6, 2012
The light in here is steady. It is pure. I remember lying in bed reading at night by a kerosene lamp. The light was moving on the page. It flickered. It was alive. It made the words alive on the paper. Patrick Henrys’ Give me liberty or give me death. Nathan Hales’ I regret I only have one life to live for my country. The word of God, The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. I could hear those words. They rocked me to sleep at night. When I was almost asleep I closed the book. I didn’t have to mark the page. I could remember where I stopped reading. I could hear the voices. Finally the book was on the table near the bed. My arms were still by my side. The cover was just a little low on my chest. One eye was shut while the other was barely open. I peeped at the flame flickering on the wall. I closed my peeping eye as I heard her come into the room. She walked over by my bedside and pulled the cover the rest of the way up to my chin. She leaned over for a quick kiss on my cheek. I could smell her touch. She smelled of cornbread. Her hand smelled of washed dishes. Then I peeped again as she walked over to the lamp. She cupped her hand behind the globe and blew a quick puff. She didn’t blow it on the flame. She blew into her cupped hand. The quick puff of air went down the globe and snuffed the flame. I closed my peeping eye and slept. I’m getting old now. One of these nights soon I will feel His hand as He cups it around me. I will feel the puff of his breath as I shut my eyes in sleep. When I awake I will be in my Heavenly Home. I wait now with one eye peeping, waiting for the touch of the Master’s hand.
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