The sun tries to come out. It is a true November morning--cold and grey, with hints of blue and white light in the sky, a haze over the hills and trees, the ground covered with wet leaves, the trees dead and barren except for the pines. ... I sit content, held in peace as if God is embracing me. The silence is magnificent and healing. I become a part of it--silent, calm, at peace. My soul is quieted.
An individual sitting in an emergency waiting room noticed a man in a wheel chair in considerable pain with his wife by his side. For a half hour the couple never exchanged a word; they just held hands, looking intently at each other. Once or twice the woman patted the man's face. The person watching said the feeling of love was so tangible in the room that she felt she was sharing their silent communion. Their silent love was also joyful and portrayed the fullness of a human relationship. That's what spiritual silence is all about. Love does not necessarily require words. It often requires silence.
~ from "Contemplative Silence" by Paul Harris in Schola (March 2001)
