In the Quiet of the Night

One year after the Christmas Eve service, I walked around Watertown, Wisconsin through six inches of snow as it continued to fall, muffling the sounds of the occasional car going by.

I walked past houses with windows lit up with warm lights and people celebrating inside, and went down to the Rock River.

Alone in the snow and cold, I listened to the earth and heard the trickling sounds of the water flowing past, ducks and geese chatting occasionally to each other, and the solitude of the trees standing strong and mute, watching over the land.

It was a silence filled with the quiet assurance that hope was being passed from hand to hand, and from heart to heart, around the world tonight.