We were blessed to have clear skies last week for Ian’s first lunar eclipse. He called it a ‘mooner eclipse’, which was close enough.

He had catechism that night, and made sure to remind everyone he saw that the eclipse was happening, and not to miss it. Celestial events always seem to happen in the middle of the night, or in Asia, so it was a treat to see the Earth’s stain spread slowly across the moon before bedtime.

We raced home, keeping an eye on the moon from the car windows. On the way we called Grandpa, because he likes space too, and has binoculars. Ian took a bath while I assembled and aimed and aimed and aimed the telescope. I’m terrible with telescopes. The only reason I can find the moon is because it shines, which is decreasingly the case during a lunar eclipse.

Ian joined me outside, freshly scrubbed and bundled, and Grandpa—with Grammie!—arrived in time to see the shadow shift from black to bronze. It amazes me that the Earth, too, casts a shadow on the sidewalk.

In thrall, as I always am when my Creator shows a few of his cards, I said to my son, his eye peering through the telescope, ‘Ian, say hello to God.’

He stood, waved, and shouted toward the moon, ‘Thank you, God!’