|Tuesdays at Two Writing Teachers!|
Husband leans forward to dangle her closer to the mic. "Today we're gonna light the candle of love," her tiny voice squeaks out, "an' God loved the wor-rld, an' he sent Chee-sus to save the wor-rllld." She beams proudly, squirming back against Husband's chest in excitement as the congregation titters.
"Now Daddy!" she squeals and throws her arms around his neck, prompting a second rumble of louder chuckles.
"No, now we get to light the candles! Then Daddy will read his part," I whisper. I kiss her head and take the ornate candlelighter to the altar candles, pushing the lever to raise the wick as I did so many times as an acolyte growing up. The flickering candle wavers with pure magic as I carry it carefully back to the wreath. Our three hands wrap around each other and we lean forward together to light the candles of hope and love.
Just like I did with my parents, and Husband did with his parents.
"Now there'll be lights and lights!" Sweetie chirps in my ear. Husband begins to read. "Dear friends, let us continue to love one another..."
Hope and love.
Light in the darkness.
Our love is shining so bright within and through me that it feels like I might float away.
|Isn't our historic church gorgeous?|
She's so dear! It's a lot of cuteness to live with.ReplyDelete
And, yes, your church is gorgeous!