After six months of work, and with a lot of prompting, we can say the whole twenty-third Psalm. Last night we talked about being in God's house forever and the kids raised their hands to suggest what they thought it would be like. Really big. Full of castles. Streets of gold. Everyone will be old (!). Covered from one end to the other in crosses.

"No one knows for sure what it will be like." I told the kids as they wiggled and squirmed, "But we do know that God's going to be there. And there will be no more sickness, pain, skinned knees, shooting, violence…"

Crystal called out her question, not waiting for me to finish, "Even at night?"

I nodded, as my head filled with images of what her nights have been like for the past four years. And then I was silent for a second, not sure what to say. Crystal spent her days in first grade, like all the other kids - working with glue, scissors and traveling the halls in a straight line. But her nights were different. She would have to maneuver past crackheads who crashed on the couch and somehow she had to find a place to play where the smoke, drugs and alcohol wouldn't bother her. Her home was violent, loud and sharp around the edges.

"Crystal…there won't even be night anymore. Just day." I wanted to say more but couldn't get it all together from my heart to my mouth.

* all names and identifying details have been changed to protect anonymity. © Amy Beth Augustin Barlow 2003