I remember my first experience of prayer with fondness. I was four years old, in my Holly Hobby bed, getting ready to go to sleep for the night. My mother had read me a bedtime story, as usual, but that evening she decided to also teach me the “Our Father”. As we prayed together, I felt a deep inner fascination. It was like my mother had given me a new gift that was better than any toy. I laughed with joy when she said the word “intrusions.” I loved the sound of that word. I thought that was the funniest word I had ever heard. The laughter subsided until, in the next sentence, I heard “intrusions” again. My laughter was contagious. My mother couldn't continue until we were both exhausted from laughing. As she ended the prayer with the word “evil,” I remember a very serious tone overshadowing me. I didn't feel fear, but I was sober. I fell asleep thinking about the goodness of this God who would protect me from all harm. I was the eldest in the family and the only child at that time. We spent every day together, just mom and me. As we made our beds each morning, Mom would sing the song from the Disney production of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, “Just Whistle While You Work.” After our morning tasks, we took a “coffee break”. Mom was having her coffee. I drank my milk warmed, with a little coffee added, just enough to give it a creamy brown color. As the day went on, we did laundry and planned our grocery lists. We cooked and shopped together. I had an abundance of craft supplies to cut, glue, or draw anything I could imagine. I would sit on my own little tablecloth among piles of dirty laundry on laundry day and create every craft idea I could imagine. My mother was in the middle of paper......and all my adult life. From now on, music in life had returned. I had denied much of my true self while striving to be nothing like my mother. I opened myself to fully trusting another person, thereby learning to love the way God wanted me to love. My marriage has improved dramatically. I no longer let my perfectionist nature paralyze me or discourage my husband. I developed a new motto: “Praise God and do it imperfectly.” Even though the intense closeness I experienced during my private retreat with my Lord has faded, I realize that it is my job to simply keep my lantern lit. Sometimes fear or self-pity seems to creep into my life with its unsightly face. So I wait with joyful hope because I know that my Lord will return to me one day. “Perfect love casts out all fear.” Jesus Christ was, is and always will be my Perfect Love.