When I was a little girl I made it a regular habit to get out of bed at night. I don't remember if I was actually scared of the dark, which is likely, or if I just had to pee, which is also likely. Either way, I would get out of my bed and go searching for the light. That part I remember. I would gather my blanket and a pillow and creep out of my bedroom into the hallway. There was always a small ray of light that came in through my bedroom window from the streetlight outside and settled on the floor in the hall. I think the patch of light was probably about a foot wide. It was in that little area of illumination that I would spread out my blanket and lay down, my face always turned toward the light. Only in the light could I fall back asleep.
I revisited this memory (or maybe the memory revisited me?) tonight when I got into bed. There was the nearly-full moon, shinning in my window, lighting up a small space on my pillow. Instinctively I turned my face to the brightness and felt the familiar comfort I had felt as a little girl. Almost like deja vu.
Funny how something as small as this can bring such peace.
