by Dave Williams
“Nana, can I pray?”
“You mean you want to say Grace?” Nana and I are both surprised but try not to show it.
“Uh-huh. Like at school.”
Isaiah goes to a Christian preschool so the fact that he’s used to a blessing at mealtime doesn’t surprise me but this is the first time he has offered it at home. Normally we don’t pray over meals, except at Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter family gatherings but it’s nice. I like this new wrinkle to the developing man who is still our four-year-old grandson.
We all bow our heads and Isaiah begins:
“Thanks for the food we eat….um…the good food and, and…thank you for this beautiful day and….ummm….”
Isaiah has clearly been properly coached in the manners of Grace but he’s momentarily stuck for a big finish. I know the feeling.
“And….and….bless Nana and Grandpa and Daddy,” he continues, gathering steam, “And please make things grow and make things green and make Paige’s mom feel better and make Angela’s dog come back and make Nana’s bottom better! AMEN!”
I think Nana managed to mutter “Amen,” before her head snapped up and I started snickering.
“What did you say about Nana?” she asked with forced and admirable restraint.
He apparently thought she was hard of hearing so he answered very loudly, “I SAID MAKE NANA’S BOTTOM BETTER!”
Wise Grandpa and veteran husband that I am, I try to change the subject.
“Did Angela’s dog get lost?” I asked him.
“Yeah, he ran away.”
“And Paige’s mom is sick?”
Isaiah’s interest in explaining his prayer was fading quickly. I couldn’t drag it out any longer but I did fight back most of the grin as I asked my wife, “Honey, what’s wrong with your bottom?”
“He knows I fell on the stairs months ago. That’s what he’s talking about.” As she said this I clearly saw for the first time the look on a person’s face always described as “chagrined.”
A thought struck me.
“Isaiah,” I said, “Did you say that same prayer at school today?”
“YES!” he shouted proudly.
And then Nana bowed her head in prayer again.