Darkness and silence penetrated my being like a living force. What was in the dark halls? What lay beyond the window panes, creeping in the bushes or lurking beneath the swaying pine trees? Why did everything seem so much scarier when the sky went dark?
I huddled under a blanket in the nursery, hoping someone would come along to keep me company. And there! Footsteps on the floorboards. Mommy gently pushed open the door, a small smile lighting her face.
I nodded, blinking up at her.
She took me on her lap and enveloped me in her arms.
Softly, she sang, "Safe am I, safe am I, in the hollow of His hand. Sheltered o'er, sheltered o'er, in the hollow of His hand. No foe can harm me, no fear alarm me, for He keeps both day and night. Safe am I, safe am I, in the hollow of His hand."
Her clear voice stopped, and again the stillness echoed like a tomb.
Then the tune that danced and cheered, "He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, the wealth in every mine. He owns the rivers and the rocks and rills, the moon and stars that shine. Wonderful riches, more than tongue can tell. He is my Father, so they're mine as well. . . . He owns the cattle on a thousand hills--I know that He will care for me!"
I smiled, content at last to close my eyes and sleep.