From that day forward all that was bad and hurtful, I knew, could be beaten and crushed by simple prayers and childlike faith.
* * *
We moved not long after that with no return on my dad’s investment. Indeed all was not peaches and cream, peas and carrots for my family. For me, however, I can say with complete honesty that from the night of my very first prayer until now nearly fifty years later, I have prayed at least once every day of my life, and usually more, and it has made all the difference.
I still do not blame the house nor do I believe it ever had any power over anyone. I do not accuse my mother who was and then wasn’t there for me and for my siblings. I don’t blame anyone or anything for how my life or the lives of my siblings has turned out. I find no scapegoats for what is lacking in my life or character. Instead, I am convinced that had all of us learned that day what it meant to live our lives with prayer and faith it could have made all the difference.
I wonder now why everyone doesn’t live a life where prayer and faith is an integral part. But all that wondering really doesn’t amount to anything. I pray now.
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