When I was a child I had an incredible imagination and with that came terrific nightmares.
Many nights I woke up panic-filled, wide-eyed, my heart beating loud enough that any robber in the house could hear.
I was frightened to the point of feeling paralyzed.
My peace of mind came when I would call out to my parents.
The evening pattern went like this: 
DAD! Are you awake?
Yes, I am.
Don't go to sleep until I go to sleep, okay?
Okay, I won't go to sleep until you're asleep.
MOM!
Yes?
Are you awake?
Yes, I'm awake.
Don't go to sleep until I go to sleep okay?
Okay, I won't go to sleep until you go to sleep.
DAD?
I'm here, go to sleep Corey. We won't go to sleep until you go to sleep.
Writing these words my eyes fill with tears. My parent's reassured me, night after night, they gave me their word faithfully and without ever seeming to be bothered by my need. They would respond with calm no matter when I called out. As if they never slept.
This went on until I was fourteen. Hard to believe that my parents did not crack.
I would fall asleep trusting my parents were there to protect me from harm.
(When I was fourteen a doctor told them to put a radio in my room with music on low. It did the trick.
I sleep through the night without calling for them.)
(The photo is of a 1900s plaster Paris statue of Saint Joseph holding the Christ Child. When I bought this statue I found a small note carefully tucked into one of the folds. The note was of long ago… a written prayer… pleading for God's mercy to protect their son during WWII. I refolded the note and trustingly placed it back.)
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