The Lord Giveth and the Lord Giveth Again (flash fiction)

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Fresh snow frosted the small windowpane of her bedroom. She awoke late, at 7:30, the morning that began her eighty-fifth year. Last night, she’d given herself permission to sleep in, risking missing morning prayers, Mass and even breakfast with the rest of the community.  Her intention was sincere in honest ambivalence–“if the Lord wants me at morning prayer, the Lord will see to it I awake in time.”
As always, the Lord had other plans.
Before rising from beneath warm, cozy blankets, enjoying blessed solitude, anticipating a first cup of coffee in rare silence, she realized the sisters would be on their way to Mass.  Suddenly she was taken by a vision. Eighty-five years ago this minute she would just be approaching five hours old, hairless in wrinkled pinky flesh, writhing with hunger for her mother’s milk, elixir of life.  Her first communion in the intimacy of the first family bonding as God so ordained.  What awesome wonder!
January could chill through to the bone in Oklahoma’s panhandle. Transporting back to that moment collapsed time and space, to the sights, smells and sensations of her first hours on earth.  The sticky warmth of her mother’s body against her flesh, the warmth of milk coursing down her throat, the low sounds of her father’s voice in comment of adoration.  What wondrous love is this?  The gift of sight extended as she imagined her beloved brothers, then two and four, rubbing their eyes, hair the color of dry corn husks askew with fresh waking. Silently they came alongside their mother to peek at their new sister; gently touching the quilt over their mother’s leg, her arm, astonished at the magical sight of this baby appearing out of the darkness, out of their dreams.  What glorious delight to see them so young, flanked by the older three siblings.
The moment passed briefly as moments do in life and memory, but the joy and gratitude sustained her in giggles and renewed energy.  “Happy new year, Miriam!” she said aloud to herself—grabbed her robe to venture down the hall for coffee, her morning prayers fulfilled.