"Then I came back to the parsonage. All was dark and quiet. I was alone. Darkness was all around. Then a flash across the sky! The only light left shining came from the old lighthouse on Assateague Island. It was spreading wide its beam of hope and guidance. So it is when the lights of this old world are snuffed out, and the storms of life would destroy us, the steady light of God's love still shines. As our great Coast Guard keeps the light flashing from the lighthouse, so it is our task to keep our lights burning here at home.
"Let us sing."
Paul and Maureen were almost sorry when the sermon ended. They rose with the congregation, and sang as lustily as Grandma. Even Grandpa made his lips move as if he knew the words:
"Brightly beams our Father's mercy
From His lighthouse evermore,
But to us He gives the keeping
Of the lights along the shore."
Just as the final "Amen" faded, the preacher was handed a message. He read it to himself in apparent pleasure. Then he stilled the congregation.
"Friends," he said with a smile, "I have an important announcement." He cleared his throat and glanced at Paul and Maureen before he began. "On this day, in a stable in the city of Pocomoke, a foal was born—a tiny mare colt." He paused. Then he added, "And her mother is Misty."
There was a rustle as everyone turned to look at Paul and Maureen, then smiles and murmurs of "Misty ... Misty" from every pew.