Through a tweet, I found this wonderful blog on which a father posted a fabulous painting he'd done of his daughter hunting Easter eggs. http://adaddyblog.com/2011/04/my-daughte
Our church holds a vigil on Maunday Thursday (the night before Good Friday.) The chapel stays open all night and we sign up for shifts so there is always someone there. The idea comes from the Bible when Jesus laments that Peter and one of the other Apostles (whose name I can’t remember) fall asleep while Jesus is praying for strength to make it through what he knows is coming. He’d asked them to accompany him in his prayers.
So my son, at age 8, wants to sign up for a shift. There is absolutely no talking during this time-its a very solemn soul searching event, and there are always more people there than those who sign up, so I’m hesitant but also willing to let him try. Our time is 10 pm- very late for him. He gets up to light a dozen candles in our hour but he does stay quiet.
11 o clock comes, but no one else does; everyone else has left- so we can’t. Minutes tick by. There's a piano in the corner and my son asks if he can practice his recital piece. I think a minute and decide that if I were in mental anguish I’d sure like to hear him play for me. His piece happens to be Rio Rumba. I figure it will certainly keep us from falling asleep like poor Peter did.
He’s in the midst of that very jazzy tune when the next person walks in. I look up rather nervously and she smiles. He finishes and we leave giggling. Every year, now we take an hour and we always giggle a little remembering how my son played Rio Rumba for Jesus.