A Bedtime Story, Routine, or Ritual That Means More Than It Seems

Every night, I ask the same question: “Do you want a story or a prayer?”

Sometimes the answer is both.

Sometimes it’s just “no.”

But I always ask. Because asking matters.

It started as a routine — a way to settle the chaos, to create some rhythm.

But over time, I realized it was doing more than calming him down.

It was communicating, “You’re worth my presence, even at the end of a long day.”

One night, he chose prayer.

He didn’t say much — just listened quietly.

But halfway through, he reached over and grabbed my hand.

No words. Just contact.

That was the whole breakthrough.

Bedtime isn’t just the end of the day — it’s often where trust is quietly built.

In the dark.

With a story.

Or a whispered prayer.

Or just a hand held in silence.

And every night I show up for that — even tired — I’m telling him:

“You are safe. You are seen. And I’m still here.”