Samantha has just turned three years old, and for nearly a year she has been trying to say prayers all by herself. Sometimes she says things we can understand, sometimes not, but it's always cute. And I'd bet that God likes it too.
Here's a sample of some things she's said in recent prayers:
"Thank you for..."
-Jackie-boy (her nickname for younger brother Jack)
-Mommy and Daddy
-Grandparents and granddaughters (that would be her)
-Jesus saving us from our sins
-Stabetti (translation: spaghetti)
-Suns and rainbows
My parents didn't raise any girls, as my brother and I made it a fairly testosterone-laden household. So you can imagine how special it was for them to have this beautiful red-haired, curly-haired grandaughter. Earlier this year Samantha went shopping with her RoRo (grandmother's nickname), and when she got home my dad asked her how the trip was. Samantha said, "PawPaw, I LOVE the mall!". My dad looked at her, melted, and said, "Okay, I'll buy it for you." He didn't care that he didn't have $28 million spare money, and couldn't actually buy the mall at that moment. She asked for it, and she was gonna get it, period.
Up to this point, luckily Samantha's prayers have focused on her thankfulness. Yet eventually she's going to start asking for stuff when she prays. And we'll see if God can resist her charms more successfully than my dad did. If not, it's going to be awkard explaining to people why dolls and ponies keep appearing on our doorstep, and why we just took an unplanned trip to Mars.
Journal Week 25: Things I Miss About Home
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