the light shines in the darkness...

Saturday night came in clear and bright, a good moon casting shadows off the trees.

"We want to sleep outside tonight, Dad." Anna announced with Soren nodding enthusiastically.

"But, my cold's so bad I don't think I can do that, sweetie." I said apologetically.

"Yep. I know. We want to do this alone."

Considering the size of our mountain area, I asked where they thought they'd like to go.

"Up on the very top of that hill." Anna said, pointing out south to a wind-swept knob over-looking Lake Chelan.

I thought about winter-hungry coyotes that would be sure to be out on a moony night such as this one. I considered how this was still January. I rubbed my jaw over their insisting to not use a tent.

"Sure. I think it is a great idea!" I said, hiding the hesitancy in my gut.

I helped them pack up sleeping bags and ground pads. I gave them each their choice of flashlights, told Anna to call me on the cell phone once they got settled down, and gave the dog strict instructions to stay with them through the night.

On impulse, I reached into the camping box and pulled out the hunting knife my dad gave me, and presented it to Soren. His eyes widened as he slid it out of the leather sheath.

"Poppie gave this to you?" The blade shown in the porch light.

"Yes. And someday I'll give it to you, but, for now, I just want you to keep it safe--in case you need it."

He nodded his head and caught my gaze sheepishly.

They--my two little kids--shouldered their light packs and left. I stood in the upstairs window watching the pair of lights from their headlamps flickering, sometimes bright as they looked back my way and then dimmer as they looked ahead, until there was no light at all.

"In case you need it..." I had told Soren. How would a seven-year-old boy know anything at all about how to fight a cougar or, worse, a pack of hungry coyotes. Could he hold the blade tip up and wait until the coyote jumped up, and let steel find soft belly? Could he show resolve enough to unnerve a pack of hungry varmints?

No. Of course not.

I can teach him things. I do; I will. Flu shots will happen. Stranger danger talks have been had. But there are so, so very many coyotes out there. And so much darkness. And I am so powerless. But the light shines in the darkness, though it, and the darkness does not overcome it.

My phone rang. Two excited little voices told me about how snug and warm they were.

"See you in the morning, Dad."