I learned most of my theology not from my teachers but from my children. When my daughter, Nessa, was 3 years old, we had a routine. Each night, I would tuck her into bed, sing our bedtime prayers, kiss her good night and attempt to sneak out of the room. Halfway down the hall, she began to scream, \”Abba!\” An avid reader of Parents magazine, the Torah of parenting, I knew what to do: I walked back to the child\’s room and turned on every light. I looked under the bed. \”No alligator, Nessa.\” I checked the closet. \”No monsters, Nessa.\” I surveyed the ceiling. \”No spiders, Nessa. Now go to bed. Tomorrow is coming, and you\’ve got to get to sleep,\” I\’d say. \”Everything is safe. Good night.\” \”OK, Abba,\” she said, \”but leave the light on.\”