He knocked, a welcomed interruption from work.
Only too glad for the distraction, she grabbed the coat hanging off the peg behind the door. “Let’s go. ”
They walked together in the cool quiet night air for a long time in companionable silence. Somewhere along the way, his fingers laced hers. She didn’t notice it at once because it was so natural. It was strong and comfortable. They walked on.
At last, they stopped. She could see that they were in the garden. It was different at night, a different kind of tranquility. But she liked this darkness. It wasn’t dangerous. It was coated with the stars and the moon, her faraway friends. She knew them and they knew her. This was the familiar dark she liked.
They sat on the mossy ground and leaned back into the large woody trunk of a tree. She closed her eyes contentedly. A soft breeze blew.
I have so much I want to say.
She began. She opened her eyes to look at him.
Help me say them. I want people to know before I forget.
His eyes were still closed but his reply came softly.
Rest. They will know. You will remember.
I have too many things to do and too little time. I’m sure I’ll forget.
He shifted slightly, a faint smile outlined by the soft moonlight.
You won’t. he assured. Because He will always be there. He will always be good. He will help you to write, to say what He wants you to and to help you do what you need to.
He stretched and rested his arms behind his head.
She mused on his reply in silence before settling back more comfortable against the trunk.
It is true. He is good and He never changed. He will give her enough, more than enough. He won’t go away.
A knowing peace, a security lulled her into a happy sleep. She drifted on a boat-bed, a queen-sized down cushion bed which floated just above quiet waters. She was rocked by gentle, caressing waves as the sun set somewhere off the horizon, dying the waters an orangey-purple. Birds called as she drifted.
And she rested.