There was another kind that seemed magical to me. Mom would float a votive in a bowl of water, and we would watch to see if the candle would win and heat up the water or the water would conquer the flame and snuff it out. I think the warmth won out every time, unless I cheated and sank the votive. 

 

The other day I was in a dark mood. I took the girls to church where they were playing hand bells, but I had no intention of being friendly. Fortunately silence is acceptable behavior in church anyway. I watched the row of girls, a golden bell in each gloved hand, eyes focused on the sheet of music with color coded notes. Each child held the responsibility of sounding the notes solemnly, and the songs they played were as lovely as their faces. They were unaware of my mood, which was fine with me. I had no desire to mute their joy.

 

I thought back to the candles floating in water. Would my mood cool theirs or would their innocence warm up mine? I heard myself chiming in with the words to the song, saying things I did not feel... yet.

 

 

I noticed the gradual yielding within me. God was in charge, even over the things that troubled me. All things being equal, I would not have placed my grouchy self in the presence of cheerfulness, but since I was here anyway I let the feelings seep in.

 

There are voices around that shout the importance of saying how you feel at any cost. But there are times I am glad I didn't.