Because we didn’t get to sleep until one in the morning after a Saturday night (at midnight we were still at The National Theater, amazed and stupefied by booming music and bouncing punk rock musicians), we overslept on First Day/Sunday morning. We made it into the meeting house as the teachers and children were leaving for classes.
I greeted one parent in passing and they paused to confess that their offspring was still in the worship room, stretched out on a pew where they’d fallen asleep. I laughed and said my sons had done the same thing at that age.
But once inside the meeting room, I found Zee was not sleeping on just any pew—Zee was sound asleep across the cushioned pew where my spouse and I usually sit! There no assigned seats and Zee was absolutely there first.
Though my husband and I enjoy our little habits, there are no bad seats in the meeting house. We sat on a different pew next to an open window. We had a view of the garden with daffodils and hellebore in bloom. Some minutes later, Zee woke, stretched, and quietly walked out to join the others in religious education class.
It’s a fine thing when a child feels safe enough to fall asleep in a room full of people, some of them strangers. To see Zee sound asleep on that pew made me feel good about our meeting.
Historically, Quakers are famous for taking forward thinking positions and acting on their convictions. But a close look at our records reveals extended periods of questioning and discernment. Quaker meetings require unity before we take action, and reaching unity can be hard work. We Quakers were and are prison reformers, educators, activists for peace and human rights. Over our three hundred years, we haven’t always gotten things right.
But Sunday, as Zee slept on the pew, it seemed clear our meeting gets this one thing thoroughly right: the children and young people know they are safe here.
And that is the goal we share we so many other groups and individuals around the world: that every child, everywhere, knows they are safe where they are.