A quiet voice at the bottom of the stairs brought me out of the bedroom.
"Come outside. Put on your shoes and come outside."
Was there something wrong with our friends' car? Did they have one last thing to say before they left? What was up?
There only being one way to find out, shoes already being on, I went directly outside.
"Come. Stand here. Turn around. Now look."
I looked. And I gasped.
There they were, suspended above our little white house, through the branches overhanging: Moon and Venus. So clear. So bright. So beautiful.
We roused the kids. No need to stay tucked in when the Lord was waiting with this perfect "Good Night".
::
And the added bonus? Just the excuse I needed to recite Langston Hughes' poem:
How thin and sharp is the moon tonight
How thin and sharp and ghostly white
Is the slim curved crook of the moon tonight.
Sadly, Mr. Hughes makes no reference to Venus. Ah, well. Maybe I'll have to write my own verse about her.
