"More Prayers?"

Train up a child in the way he should go;

even when he is old he will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6

The room was dark, lit only by the fading twilight sky peeking through the curtains.  The only sounds were the box fan swirling the cool, rainy breeze through the bedroom and two voices sharing a simple prayer of gratitude with intermittent giggles.

This has become a nightly ritual for my daughter and I.  We lay in bed together contemplating our day and all the good things that have happened, and we simply say "Thank you, God."  She's only two years old, and prayer is a completely foreign concept but one eagerly embraced by her innocent soul in its early yearnings for things of the spirit.

"Want to say our prayers?"  I would ask her.  She would turn to me and put her face close to mine, ready to recount the things that brought her joy throughout the day.  "What did we do today?  What can we be thankful for?"  It always starts that way, with a question I don't expect her to answer on her own quite yet.

Today, we took my son to a doctor appointment and, as is usually the case, he suffered his own emotional traumas.  The appointment itself was short and demanded nothing physical of him but to get his blood pressure checked and to lay down to measure his height.  Nonetheless, it was an appointment full of weeping and tears on his part.  To make the day a little brighter for everyone, my husband announced that we would be heading to the zoo to spend the day in the beautiful, warm sun.  We had pizza lunches, saw the elephants, ran from bumble bees.  It was a beautiful day.

"Did Daddy take us to the zoo today?"  I asked Evie, my voice full of wonder.  "Can we say thank you to God for Daddy?"

"Thank you God'a Daddy!" she said.  Her smile, hidden behind the pacifier she still requires at bed time, was broad and lit up her eyes.

"Can we say thank you to God for all the animals he made?"

"Thank you God'a animals!"

Evelyn may not know who or what God is exactly, but she's beginning to learn that all good things come from him.  Her family and the things we do for her.  Pizza.  Camels.  Sometimes we ask for a simple blessing at the end for our family, sometimes we just tell Jesus we love him.  She knows when to say "Amen" on her own now.

We fall into giggles and songs, tickles and kisses.  When it finally gets silent and I think she's ready to wind down and fall asleep, she strokes my cheek and with an innocent grin asks me, "More prayers?"

"What are you thankful for, sweetheart?"  I ask her with a hug.  "What makes you happy?"

"My sandbox outside!"

Thank you God for sandboxes.