When recovery felt slow and life seemed dim, an elderly widow discovered that healing sometimes begins with the simplest act of opening the curtains. The Window of Light tells the story of how the Sabbath — one quiet, sacred day each week — became her source of strength, peace, and the gentle awakening of hope once more.

By Raffy Castillo

One Friday evening, while sorting old things, she found a small devotional book her late husband used to read aloud every Sabbath.

Pressed between its pages was a dried sampaguita — delicate but fragrant still. She touched it gently.

A memory rose:

Her husband lighting a candle, her children singing, the house wrapped in Sabbath peace.

Tears brimmed.

She whispered, “Lord, I miss those days. I miss You.”

That moment felt like an invitation.

The Sabbath of Light

The next morning — Saturday, the Sabbath — she asked her granddaughter to open all the curtains.

Sunlight flooded the room, warm and golden.

Her granddaughter placed a cup of salabat on her bedside table, along with the old devotional book and her well-worn Bible.

Aling Perla closed her eyes as the warmth settled on her face. “It feels like God’s hand,” she murmured.

She read slowly, savoring each verse, especially Isaiah 58:11:

“The Lord will guide you continually… and strengthen your bones; you shall be like a watered garden.”

The words felt alive — as if they were written for her weary body.

A Gentle Healing

She decided to dedicate this Sabbath to God, just as she had in her youth.

No anxious thoughts.

No worrying about recovery.

Just stillness.

Just gratitude.

She spent the day by her window, watching children play in the street, listening to the rustling leaves, letting her heart finally unclench.

For the first time since her stroke, the fog lifted.

The pain in her shoulders eased.

Her breathing deepened.

Her heart felt calm.

Her granddaughter later said, “Lola, you look brighter today.”

And she smiled. “Because I sat in God’s light.”

The Science of Soft Light and Stillness

Doctors often speak of the healing power of sunlight —

its ability to boost vitamin D, regulate sleep cycles, and lift mood.

But spiritual rest amplifies this healing. Studies show that mindfulness and Sabbath-like reflection lower blood pressure, decrease anxiety, and help with recovery after illness.

Aling Perla was experiencing the blend of both — nature’s warmth and heaven’s peace.

A New Rhythm of Hope

From that Sabbath onward, she created a ritual:

• Curtains open by sunrise
• Soft worship songs in the background
• A cup of warm tea
• Scripture reading
• Quiet prayers of thanks

Her strength slowly returned.

She began walking a little farther each week.

She even tended two potted plants again — basil and oregano.

“I still get tired,” she laughed. “But now, I rest in the right place.”

Her children noticed the transformation.

“Nanay, you’re blooming,” they said.

She replied, “It isn’t me. It’s the light of the Sabbath.”

The Window That Opens the Heart

One Sabbath evening, as she watched the sunset from her window, she whispered a prayer:

“Lord, thank You for opening this window —

not just for light to enter,

but for my soul to breathe again.”

And in that quiet room, filled with the glow of a setting sun, she felt whole — not because she was fully healed yet, but because God was healing her gently, Sabbath by Sabbath.

Reflection: The Light That Finds Us

The Sabbath is not only a pause from work; it is a window through which God shines healing into weary lives.

It reminds us that rest is not the end of activity — it is the beginning of renewal.

For all who feel tired, lonely, or uncertain, the Sabbath whispers:

“Let the light in. Let Me in.”

And when we do, even the smallest room becomes holy ground.

“The Sabbath is not only a pause from work; it is a window through which God shines healing into weary lives.”