An older woman closes her eyes on a full, heavy afternoon. She pictures God — not as an idea but as a presence, near and warm. She imagines Him covering her like a warm blanket pulled close. The noise does not disappear. The worries do not vanish. But something shifts inside her chest — the noise becomes distant, the worries stop pressing so hard. She opens her eyes a little steadier and says quietly: “That is what I needed.”
