The worship of the Great Mystery was silent, solitary, free from all self-seeking. It was silent because all speech is of necessity feeble and imperfect ... it was solitary, because the people believed that the Great Spirit is nearer to us in solitude, and that no one was authorized to come between an individual and the Creator. Among us, all were conscious of their divinity.
There was simply silence. And in that silence, as I gazed up at the sunlight sparkling through those high upper windows, or followed a secret tug drawing me down into my own heart, I began to know a prayer much deeper than "talking to God."
"Somewhere in those depths of silence I came upon my first experiences of God as a loving presence that was always near, and prayer as a simple trust in that presence.