Each night before she goes to sleep, Sutton and I say her prayers. Actually, I usually end up saying the prayers and she adds a couple of comments, sort of her own version of the front-row Baptist chorus of “amen.”
We cover lots of things during the regular prayers: things she’s thankful for; things she thinks she probably should apologize for; and general wishes for safety and health. This is generally followed by “amen.” That’s when the fun starts.
For some reason, “amen,” to Sutton means “p.s.” on the bottom of a letter. It’s her time to get in a couple of last thoughts.
Many times, such wishes involve her stuffed animals or other favorite toys.
“Please be with Mickey Mouse and let him get a good night’s sleep. Amen” was one such recent example.
“Help me find my sparkly ball that lights up. I think it’s under the sofa. Amen,” was another.
Other times, her codicils involve the transgressions of herself or others.
“Help me stay out of timeout at school,” she will say. (Notice she doesn’t say “help me be good,” opting instead for her version of “don’t let me get caught.”
Or, “please be with Friend XYZ (you can insert any name here). They were bad, bad, bad today.”
Since it’s near Thanksgiving, our recent prayers and discussions have centered on what we’re grateful for and how we should help those who aren’t as fortunate. These discussions have influenced Sutton’s comments, too.
After a recent discussion about Operation Christmas Child, which supplies shoeboxes filled with gifts for needy children throughout the world, Sutton’s nighttime prayer included the line, “Please help mom share the candy that’s in those shoe boxes.”
I guess that’s what I get for telling her the shoe box candy was for other children and not her. So much for charity.
Another time, again after packing some toys for donation, she prayed “Please don’t let mom give all my toys away.”
It’s during these times I think of Matthew 19:14: “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
And I know it does. And, at least in Sutton’s case, I can sleep knowing Mickey Mouse is being watched over, too.