Friday, March 23, 2012

. . . a prayer


Just like that.  It is a statement, not a question, not a calling, neither a wish nor a command, just a statement.  


"Ma-ma," said the baby.
"Maaaaah-maaaahhhhh," said the toddler.
"Ma-ma?" said the three-year-old-adorable.
"Mama," says the five-year-old.

"Mama. You know, I pray every day."

Actually, Mama did not know that, not in the way the grown-up-girl means it.  Not in the way that clearly means "on my own", "not with you", not at meal or bed times, but "all by myself".

"You do, Averie?"

"Yes. Everyday, Mama.  I pray every day."
"Mama, do you remember that day when I went to go tt and then there was a spider, that big, huge, humongous, spider, in my potty? Do you remember, Mama? Every day, when I go in the bathroom, I pray every day that the spider won't be in the potty."