vespers

Every night Bill and I bow our heads, clasp our hands in front of our eyes, and say our prayers. He usually wants me to start, and I launch into a lengthy dissertation, starting with praying for our family, for Bapa, for my sisters and their families, for Steve's sister and brother and their families, for our friends, neighbors, on and on as the circle of love widens. Then I start in on being thankful for good food on the table, warm clothes on our backs, and a roof over our heads. We pray for the heads of the governments around the world, and we pray that the sick people be made well, that scared people feel not scared anymore, that hurt people be healed, and that angry people find happiness. It really takes about 5 minutes every night.

Last night I was tired, so as we lie there, with our eyes closed and our hands clasped, I asked Bill to start. Okay, he said. I smiled. I couldn't wait to hear his sweet prayer. I bet he'd go on and on, kind of like my standard prayer, but with that creative Bill twist he's known for. Maybe he'd be thankful for brownies ("Brownies are God" was his profound statement when he was 2). I just didn't know. I waited. He hesitated a moment, then opened his mouth, and out came his prayer.

"Thanks, God. Amen."