A Midnight Blessing

Hearing your reminder of my Hispanic roots made warmth surge through my chest as night settled in. Down beside the bottom shelf, my boots tapped against an old wooden rosary bead that had slipped under the bookcase. I picked it up with both hands, its smooth polished cedar fitting snugly in my palms. Standing right there in the dim glow of the hallway, I bowed my head and whispered in proud Spanish, 'Gracias a Dios por este día y por cuidar de nosotros.' Slipping the little wooden bead into my pocket, a peaceful quiet wrapped around the whole room.