Nightfall was always an eerie time on the wide open prairie. A silvery moon quickly seem to cast ghostly shadows stirred about by the howl of coyotes in the distance. Stillness crept over me and not even the faintest breeze would calm me.
There in my bed the silence overwhelmed. I would strain to hear even a faint chirping cricket, but find none. A night like this found even Buffy, the Siamese cat, restless. The heaviness of the day's burdens carried over into a restless night. Slipping from my covers I would creep to the door and listen for signs of movement in the house. Ever so quietly my tip-toes traveled down the dark hall.
In the kitchen I often found my grandfather sitting quietly at the table. The faint light of the oven revealed his face drawn and tired. Burdens of the day weight heavy on him in the night. With a ragged breath he spied me and offered his soft smile; an invite for me to join him.
There in the night we sat alone in the big farm kitchen. Often on this sleepless night we share a late night treat; a favorite snack. Crunchy, salty crackers stacked with slices of hard cheese topped with the best part of all- tangy summer sausage. Together, in the deep dark of the night there were no words, just him and me and our late night treat putting to rest the heaviness of the day and the restlessness of the night.
Nights like these I long for that familiar comfort- that time of quiet sharedness. Sitting here, in the dim light from my own kitchen, I miss peace that came as a child...peace from a loving soul...peace that came there in the night.