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"It will help you feel okay."
“Fear not, for I am with you.”
When one sense is dulled, the others kick into high gear, attempting to overcompensate for what has been lost in a desperate attempt to keep you alive.
My sight lost- a truly ironic example of blind faith- and yet I felt nothing.
“Fear not, for I am with you.”
I do not know who ‘I’ is.
They claim to be with me, but the only person standing next to me is the one reading to me, a steady hand on my shoulder.
“Fear not, for I am with you.”
The woods were dark. It was not like I could tell.
The fireworks were loud. The cicadas were singing, screaming, desperate for someone to listen to their song.
“Fear not, for I am with you.”
I didn’t care about the noise. He was speaking. She was speaking. They are speaking in verse, in sync, words I cannot understand.
Words that I am sure those around me know full well what they mean, like an inside joke I am missing out on.
“Fear not, for I am with you.”
They keep repeating that. I am not afraid. The girl behind me trembles. She must be.
A presence to my left, to my right. Nobody is standing there, but someone is there.
“Fear not, for I am with you.”
I have decided that ‘I’ is him and he is there, keeping a steady eye on us, lighting a candle that I can just feel the warmth of on my face even if it's feet away from me.
I have decided that ‘I’ is him and he has a reassuring hand on my shoulder, wearing what I know is a proud smile even if I cannot see it.
“Fear not, for I am with you,”
He says, and though I know he is speaking to a group of people, it feels like it is directed at me.
He says it, and I understand. He is there. Will be there. Always has been, always will be. Is right now.
“Fear not, for I am with you.”
He is there. He is there and I have never felt less alone.
The blindfold comes off with the gentlest of pulls. He is smiling at me. I do not think I have ever seen him so proud- and I have known him for years.
The moon is smiling down on us and the stars are grinning too, and just one last time, he says,
“Fear not, for I am with you.”
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One could claim this is a religious piece. It is inherently religious- it is, after all, quoting scripture- even if I am not. This is a description of a religious ceremony (that was so very graciously altered by the man this is written about so that it did not make me uncomfortable) at my childhood summer camp that has been the subject of my writing for years. The magic I saw that night is something I so desperately want to capture for a reader, so many of my pieces on here are about this.