Did your mother listen to your prayers when you were little?
Waiting to flip the light switch and leave the room
for some hard earned quiet solitude,
even if it only lasted until the first cry for a drink,
did she take the time to tell you to fold your arms,
close your eyes,
and just tell God whatever you wanted to say,
and never laugh at what you said,
but chant: “Good night.
Sleep tight.
Don’t let the bedbugs bite.
Love you.”
when you were done?
I remember praying for a long time for a three-year-old,
because I didn’t know quite what to say,
but I wanted my mother to keep listening to me,
only to me.
Even now I think I must imagine as I pray
that God is giving me his undivided attention
—nothing else is as important
as what His daughter has to say.

Mother stopped coming to hear our prayers
when we found out that someone else was listening.