After completing the Isha' Prayer just now I wasn't in any great hurry to get up and move. I suppose I was feeling a wee bit tired after the mild rigours of the day and found myself just sitting there, a bit lost, mind wandering. I'm not entirely sure why but it wandered into the worrisome territory surrounding the big story of the week in the UK: the trial and sentencing of that nurse from Chester hospital who murdered all those babies. Without really meaning to I'd picked up quite a bit of the deeply sorry tale from fitfully watching Sky News and referencing the on-line version of The Guardian in the morning.
My thoughts were solemn and sad in nature, of course. A bit despairing. A bit hopeless. What other response can there be to the deaths of children? To the pointless malice involved. To the sense of irreparable damage that will disfigure so many of those families. To the emptiness of it all.
And then I raised my head to look up through the bedroom window. A thick crescent moon, not large exactly, but somehow filling the dark sky. Eerily bright. It seemed to me that it was something I needed to see, but I don't quite know why.
Funnily enough when I came out of the room Noi, who was involved in a sort of zoom class she's attending, looked up from her screen to ask me if I'd seen the moon. I think we both knew we were sharing that moment of illumination of the darkness. Some kind of grace.
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