Stars

Yesterday, out of nowhere, Emma Lena asked if we could look at the stars before bed. I did a quick computation in my head and realized that, yes, it would be dark enough to see the stars before bedtime. So I said yes.

Then we finished making plum jelly, moving the chicken pen again, saying goodbye to family, watching Sea-chickens get dorked by the referees, and celebrating Auntie Robin's birthday (among other things).

Then, unbeknownst to me, darkness set in and the stars came out, while I was sitting in my chair watching the World Series, and Tera was tucking the kids into bed.

Then it hit me. The Stars!

I crept into the kids' room where Tera was quietly singing.

"Emma. Come with me," I whispered.

Even Tera thought Emma had done something to get into trouble with dad. But she dutifully came out her room. Without explaining why I'd pulled her out of bed, I wrapped her in a heavy sleeping bag and carried her outside. We found in a chair--one of those accordion-type with a heavy canvas-like cloth for seat and back, and snuggled in. It was probably thirty degrees. Maybe less. We almost had to hold our breath to get a clear look at the stars--which were brilliantly shining once the motion light went out. Emma made the statements about stars that we all have noted, and she wondered about infinity and constellations that she's heard about on TV and elsewhere. She pointed out triangles and traced their shape with her index finger. We saw a satellite cruise by. I told her about how she was the only one of my children who would let me walk him or her to sleep in my arms. After about ten minutes, I told her we better get her to bed, which we did without a fuss.

Oh Lord, my God, when I, in awesome wonder, consider all the works thy hands have made. I see the stars...