5:00 am. My favorite time of day. A soft glow emanates from the unit against the wall, the tiny lamp in the kitchen. A hush, heavy against my ears like a veil. The sharp edges of daylight are but a blur. The world around me sleeps, breathing heavy and rhythmic. The breath of life, in stillness, surrounds me. Peace. No screaming politicians, no whizzing traffic -- just me and my steaming mug of coffee and my God. We sit together each morning, no words needed. At precisely 5:30 the world will start to stir as my son gets up for school. I hear the squeak of his door, the sound of a CD, the water running in the shower. My peace is punctuated, as it always is, at this time. I put down my mug and wish my God a silent prayer of gratitude, for all that I am, for all that I have, for those two teenagers upstairs who will soon break open my veil of silence. I wonder what I have done to deserve this life of wonder. But it doesn't matter. I am blessed, for the moment, so I will savor it.