Bigger than your fears.

It was 9:56 pm. All seven year old boys and girls were supposed to be either tucked into bed, off to sweet dreams about dolls and toy cars or whatever sparked their interests, or preparing by bathing, brushing their teeth, and reading a bed time story with Mommy or daddy. But tonight, a young girl—aged 6—was too scared to let sleep overtake her as it so threatened to. Although her eyes were heavy and tired, calls for Mommy and Daddy were frequent by the minute and her little voice trembled with tears that were yet to come out. Her older sister, on the phone with her boyfriend, fussing at him more than talking to him, was annoyed when she was called by her younger sister because she was too scared to sleep. Her parents weren't answering, because they were sound asleep themselves. By now, 11:32 pm, the tears streamed down her cheeks, heavy and tasting like salt. 

"Oh my God, I don't need to be dealing with this too", older sister thought to herself, watching the little girl cry. "I'mjust so scared!" The little girl cried for help, from anyone, anything. Selfishness, and unnecessary annoyance with her boyfriend, blinded the older sister's eyes from seeing what really mattered at this moment—compassion for a little girl who really needed it. Instead of sitting next to her little sister and turning on Psalms 91, a chapter in the Bible that is always played on repeat by their parents when she is scared to go to sleep, older sister quickly returned to her room, eager to nitpick on any wrong thoughts her boyfriend managed to slip out, and closed the door shut. If there was a lock, she would have made sure to lock it too.

It is 12:01 am. The daughter has been crying for 30 minutes straight. Although the young girl's parents were long presumed sleeping, the mother, tall and stacky, matching her pajama tops with the bottoms and no matching socks, gets out of the bed and heads to her daughter's room. Appearing as if she is angry, storming out of her room, the father, hysteric over his daughter and what the mother is doing, trails quickly behind her. "What are you doing!?" He whisper-yells, watching as his wife motions for her daughter to get out of her bed and follow her to the garage. The father, assuming she would be getting a spanking for not wanting to go to sleep and hiding behind her fear just to stay up longer, gets in front of his wife and daughter in an attempt to stop the unjustified punishment. The mother is a tad bit annoyed, and announces "Jade, she is ok. Please move. I got her." Her voice is a bit louder, naturally something she does as frustration comes upon her. She shuffles her confused daughter to the garage door, opens it, and pushes the button to see the driveway. The wide door lifts up and almost instantly, billions of stars greet the two, like they were waiting to shine as bright as they could that night, just for them. The night was still and quiet, no birds chirping or loud music blaring from the apartments across the street or above the house. The midnight air was crisp. The mother, lifting her finger up and walking toward the driveway and pointing at the nighttime sky full of stars, asked her daughter a question: 

"Do you see all these stars?"

"Mmhmm" the little girl mumbled through tears, her voice was shaky.

Mom squeezed her daughter's shoulders a bit tighter. "Do you know who made all of these stars?"

Her daughter looked back at her, eyes wide and a bit watery and pink.

The little girl didn't have to think about this one. "God?" 

"Yes, he did." Mother turned her daughter around towards her, bending down and leveling her daughter's face toward hers.

"Do you think God who created all of this is bigger than whatever you're scared of right now?"

The little girl shook her head. She knew what her mother was trying to say.

"Then I want you to go in your room and go to sleep. You don't have to be scared of something that is not bigger than God. Ok?"

Another small nod.

The mother and daughter returned to the house, and the little girl went into her room, and climbed back into bed. Her feet felt the warmth of the blankets and her mother soon trailed in after her, to turn on Psalms 91 on her tablet and to give her a kiss goodnight.

Now, she had confronted her fear of the angel of death and didn't feel scared anymore. She may have not understood it, but she did feel her scaredness slowly started to decrease.

She laid in bed for a few more seconds. Suddenly, sleep drifted over her, like a rush of wind after a nice, April shower. She couldn't understand what made her so scared now, after her mother put everything in it's proper place. Halfway through sleep, she eyed the hallway light. Bright and comfortable. She could hear the yelling in her sister's room, still closed, sealed off like she's more important and more valuable. Anger started building up inthe young girls heart, because her big sister, someone she looked up to, didn't bother to come and check on her. Before she could call her mommy to confess her anger, she felt her eyes grow heavier, as sleep came faster and faster, heavier and heavier, until she felt her limbs go limp and she could no longer hear the whisper yelling of her sister through the closed door.

The mother walks in after turning off the hallway light. She sees her baby sleeping and smiles, thanking God that he allowed her to teach her that lesson. She knows there will be many days where she will be afraid and she welcomed it, but she always wanted to make sure she was teaching her daughter a lesson she could remember for the rest of her life; one that would hold weight. She makes a note to make sure she greets her baby in the morning with the nice, big smile and hug she always greets her with.

"I love you, baby," mom leaves the door open and makes sure the hall light is on like she always does each night. The father, his anxiety calmed, waits for his wife in their room. She expects him to be mad and full of anger, but instead, he is already asleep and snoring rather loudly.