t was late in the afternoon before Izumi woke up. Still dressed in the same school uniform that she had crossed the Atlantic Ocean in, Izumi sleepily sat up in bed. She had fallen asleep on the big bed, not even bothering to remove the white sheet that draped over it. Her eyes gazed about the room that Anna had said was to be hers. Unlike the apartment in Tokyo, this room had two windows, all her own! Izumi eagerly stepped up to the closest window near the bed, and looked out.

The window faced south, looking straight into Chaumont Bay. As the afternoon faded fast into evening, the sun slowly sank in the horizon. The sky was clear, belying the fact that the day before, was storm- tossed and angry. Now, all was forgiven, and the bay sank into a restful peace that spoke to Izumi's heart. How different this place was from Tokyo! The busy Japanese city never slept, for noise from the streets below always emanated into the apartment. It was a constancy which Izumi had taken for granted. Here, the only thing she could hear were the waves, gently lapping upon the beach, and the occasional gull gliding across the sky.

To the right of this view, stood a small house, encircled by a white picket fence, happily basking in the twilight. Along the front of the house, ran a long porch, covered in screen, creating a shelter from insects and bugs. Inside, she could see a porch swing, rocking gently in the breeze. The house was painted a soft yellow, "just like the color of the sun when it rises from the night," Izumi noted. In front of the porch, lay a thick bed of white and yellow flowers. To her delight, she noticed they were tulips. If she stood in the breeze just right, Izumi could smell their fragrance from her window.

The scene spread before Izumi, as if on display just for her. Izumi struggled to swallow the tears she felt inside.

"If I could experience, for just one day, a rest as peaceful and quiet as this, I would be content to die tomorrow." She spoke this under her breath, sincerely meaning every word.

"I wonder who lives there," she thought, wishing for a look at the inside of such a happy home. Izumi stood there, lost in her imagination.

When Izumi finally turned from the view at the window, she was frightened to notice that nightfall had plunged her room into darkness. Izumi's heart began to pound in her ears, for she had a deep rooted fear of the dark. Something about it made her feel smothered, and frightened. Then the memory of her father's hands came rushing back, with all the intensity of the terror they had tried to inflict. Izumi crouched in the corner trembling, desperately trying to think of something else. God saw her huddled in the corner, and took pity. He sent the moon, and flooded her room with a soft light.

Izumi's eyes cautiously peeked over her knees. The room had transformed into a beautiful hue of silver. Relieved to see the light, she got up and crossed the room to her bed. Izumi slowly moved the heavy bed across the floor, scooting it flat up against the south window where the moon's light was the brightest. Now she could sleep in it's light. To Izumi, light meant safety.

Content with the change, Izumi opened the bedroom door, and went in search of her mother.

"Thou God seest me"
~ Genesis 16:13 ~