Be Thou My Vision

The little girl sits quietly in the pew. Her dark brown eyes scan the great rafters, her legs swinging in sync to the hymn she continues to hum. Her mother is still speaking to a friend after most the congregation has left, disappearing into the warm sunlight outside. The little girl sings softly to herself...

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart...Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art...

A deacon hears her soft refrain and takes a seat a few rows back, curious and interested.
Unaware of being watched, she raises a pointed finger to one of the large stained glass windows; one eye shut and the other staring intently at the subject. Slowly she moves her finger along with her gaze, skimming each window until her finger rests upon a particularly bright scene facing the morning sun.  

The deacon sees her face soften, a thoughtful look taking the place of her playful winking. Her hand drops to her side and her wide eyes linger on the great pane intently. He takes a seat next to her on the pew, following her gaze; hoping to see to what has so captured her attention.

The Resurrection Scene.

Bright yellows, deep blues and pure white fragments pieced together to form the beautiful display.
The picture floods the chapel with shimmering light, and even the dust glitters in the far reaching rays.

"Pretty isn't it?" he asks, smiling at her fascination.
She nods her head, still staring at the window.

"He lets the light in."

The deacon wrinkles his brow thoughtfully. "I'm sorry...who?"                 

The girl looks up at him, her hand pointing back to the picture.

"Jesus. He lets the light in."

The deacon looks at the window, in his eyes a look of wonder and a crooked smile spreading across his face.                               
 "You're right, He does...He lets the light in."

The little girl smiles too, then sighing begins swinging her feet back and forth again.

The deacon doesn't notice because he's still gazing at the window...and its simple truth he had somehow missed...

The little girl's mother is calling her, it's time for her to go. She takes one last look at the window and the deacon, then hops down from the pew and runs up the aisle to leave.

Resting his folded hands on the pew, the deacon laughs a little as he stares at the floor. Then the first tear comes...then the next...The deacon cries in the stillness of the now empty chapel. His mouth forming silent words too long left unsaid.

And then, child-like and broken, he sings...to daddy...

Who still brings the light.

 

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall...Still be my vision, O ruler of all...

Reviews

[Marie Anzalone]

This is a true story, isn't it?

I feel now like I'm the one walking into sacred territory. I have often found, if you want the essence of the Truth in a situation, ask a child for his or her perspective. Reading this, I could feel this little girl sitting there, quietly, in that thin space where the Holy Spirit dwells, receiving her simple, quiet, and profound message of Truth.

"He lets the Light in"

Yes, He does. And all of the fancy words in the world could not express it more truthfully, beautifully, or eloquently than that little girl did. What a beautiful write. I hope the lesson is never forgotten, by either the girl or the deacon in this story.

[Barbara Lynne]

so beautiful...i enjoy your work so very much...how beautiful...from the eyes of a child!

[Sender UpWords]

I love the way you write. This piece strikes me as something that is true... perhaps as they say the proverbial names have been changed to protect the innocent ;) Beautifully penned. Well done. Bisous, Love and Light, Sender

[Phibby Venable]

wonderful story...very well written with a strong, simple, beautiful
view from the eyes of a child.

[JC]

angelic solace, a quietude displayed by someone who knows the depth of fleeting moments as simple as they may seem leave an imprint far beyond time...you've painted an amazing imagery, resurrected the dust and swirled it like paint.

[deeps]

I really enjoyed this I found it quite beuatiful and wonderful1
Quite the amazing write I must say it's inspiational.

[Coyote Poetry]

The story is very beautiful. Children see with eyes of hope. I had to read a few times. A pleasure to read. Thank you.
Coyote

[Anne Shirley]

I love it! I like the ending, it's so sad and very touching. I really like it...

[Through the Gateway]

"He lets the light in."

Such a profound statement! It is always interesting how children have to show us as adults truth. And I'm guessing that the child was a very special child, who grew into a very special young woman. Did she continue to see the truth in her life?

I hope so.

[Mark]

This is a very special story, Vesa. I have been sitting here for five minutes trying to think of words adequate to praise it, without success. There are no extra words for this, no fancy, high-falutin' words that can in any way adorn this work. "He lets the light in..." Perfect.
I would be honored if you would read my, "This Son Of God", offering the perspectives of several people (none of them deacons) as they confront the person of Christ. Thank you, Mark Teague