A Gentle Prism

Once Anna was resting securely against the soft fold of the quilt, I stepped quietly over to the bedside table. A small glass paperweight caught the faint glow of the hallway light, scattering tiny pale prisms across the wood. I reached out and gently rested both hands on its cool, smooth facets. The glass felt calm and wonderfully still under my plush fingers. Standing there in the quiet night, seeing those tidy reflections spread across the table brought a deep, steady peace, knowing everything around us remained safe and undisturbed.