Nothing is more balmy than a happy Sunday. Its softness caresses my soul and speaks comfort. Calm and stillness are like quiet music very softy played, the sort of sound which helps to forget wrongs and shadows, releasing fears, so hearts can open freely to beauty and love. This peace gently inspires us to face the paths we usually shun, to live life as a journey of mistery where trees rustle in the light wind and freshness of the spring fields. It is everywhere, even where it should not be. On happy Sundays, I need not fight against my senses nor the little goblins always trying to sink me into sorrow and confusion. Everything seems disposed to please and to be pleased. Dark shapes are not allowed to descend on the horizon. On happy Sundays, I simply bear contentment and peace, feeling blessed by a blazing angel who looks down upon me from a bright and joyful Heaven.