My favorite painting

I am a chicken, a fraidy cat, sleep with the light on afraid of the dark kind of person. When I was little, younger than 10, the church house that we attended meetings in was a scary place. It had a basement and everyone knows that the boogie man lives in basements. In this particular church, the older children said he lived in the closet in the first classroom at the bottom of the stairs. I hated going downstairs. There were only two classrooms and the only way to get to the second classroom was through the first. Past the closet. Didn't happen very often and never alone.

Upstairs wasn't too bad. Chapel, Primary room with baptismal font, Bishop's office. Those are the rooms I remember, probably because they are the rooms I was in the most. My favorite room was the chapel. I can close my eyes and see it still. The long aisles, the pews, the choir seats where Elva pinched me during the Primary program and made me cry when I was four. I never did like her very much. But my favorite part of this room? It hung on the wall and it has always brought me peace.

And I knew that the boogie man would never bother me so long as He was watching over me.

A smaller sun faded version hangs in my kitchen. Now I can sleep with the light off.

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Indeed.