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It was Christmas Eve and the child lay motionless in his bed, content in the anticipation of what the morning would bring. On other nights he found himself startled by creeks in the floor. Often he would turn in bed for hours, weak with anxiety about what might happen in the cafeteria or at recess. If there were some way to maintain the feeling he had at this moment, to make this comfort last, he would have sacrificed anything to achieve it. Inside his body, unbeknownst to him, his heart continued pumping blood from his right atrium into his tricuspid valve, through his right ventricle and out his pulmonary semilunar valve to his lungs. If God exists, He exists first in the hearts of children.
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