Essay About Faint Female Voices And Hand Rests

Silent Love
Essay Preview: Silent Love
Report this essay
Three pews in front of me the father stands straight and tall. His son
is small and maybe 6 years old. One hand rests on his lap, I assume,
when he sits and listens and prays. The other is around his sons back,
resting on the pew, gripping the wood. It is so fascinating simply to
watch the way the father and son bond without words. I watch them
throughout the service as the father shows his love through the
sermon, the hymnals, and when the pair finally leave.
My eyes are glued to them as we listen to the sermon floating through
the arching ceiling, drifting off the white walls and the stained
glass windows. They are alone in the pew and the church is mostly
empty because its the last service of the morning. When we speak
aloud as a congregation I mouth the words but forget to speak them, I
can hear faint female voices, rough male voices and their voices. The
father points out words with his fingers to the son as they follow
along and his voice is slow, as though he was reading to the boy. The
boy casually watches his fathers hands, but seems to sneak glances at
his fathers lips, eyes, and teeth. Reverence glows out of his eyes.
“Little boy”, I think, “he loves you.” They seem to glow, the two of
them.
The service is almost over, the last hymn is called for and they
stand. The boy pulls back on a black turtleneck sweater, and struggles
to get it situated on his body. The father does not look up from the
hymn but reaches down with a certain familiarity that comes from
living with someone, knowing exactly how big they are, how small their
hands are, how slim their chest and shoulders are, exactly how they
move, and where their back ends and their hips begin. He tugs at the
back of the shirt and smoothes it out, adjusting the neck in the back,
folding it down and tugging the bottom hem back over the t-shirt. He
lets his hand rest on the boys shoulder until the song is over and
they stand like that through the