It was 2002. Dawn was just breaking and the first rays of sunlight on an Easter day began shining in the stained-glass windows as I, a young acolyte, carefully held the paschal candle. The candle was being blessed with holy water and adorned with incense before the priest exulted “the light of Christ has come into the world.” My job that morning was to assist Pastor Penvose to enhance that Easter vigil worship and to glorify God. It was a long service and there were a lot of tasks to do. I was terrified that I would sneeze a candle out or trip over my vestment. Pastor wrote notes for me in my bulletin so I would get everything just right and not embarrass myself in front of the church filled with families and Easter hats. I felt God’s presence throughout that vigil from the perspective of an acolyte – in the light streaming through the windows, the packed room of worshipers singing together, and the faces of the congregants praying as they came up for communion.