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THE NARRATIVE ARC
The First Time I Saw God’s Fingernail in the Night Sky
It brought me much-needed comfort and assurance.
Weeknights were always terrifying for me as a 7-year-old because it meant I was home alone with my 12-year-old sister, Madeline.
A significant contributor to those fears came from shows I probably shouldn’t have been watching. Keeping up with current events, where the news highlighted one tragedy after another, also didn’t help. Because of that, it was easy to imagine catastrophizing scenarios where we were victims of a robbery or kidnapping.
As latchkey kids, we were left unsupervised for 7–8 hours. Our parents had strict rules: we were to go straight home from school, promptly lock the door after we entered the house, and do our homework. I was usually the first to arrive, an hour before Madeline got home from middle school. To help me get through that period of solitude, I had to have the TV on while I attempted to complete my assignments. Even though my sister and I were constantly arguing at that age, I always felt a sense of relief the moment she walked through the door.
I was thankful that Madeline was home, but having her with me didn’t erase my worries. The only time I felt at ease was when at least one of my parents was present. It…
